Uprising
by Blue-Winter-Angel
Summary: "I don't feel whole anymore. I don't feel like myself, and that scares me." After the tragedy at the Ministry, Amber struggles to understand herself while doing all she can to protect Harry. When Dumbledore sets them a seemingly impossible task, will she crumble under the pressure or find her strength? Can a Phoenix survive when away from the one she loves? Sequel to Fearless.
1. Forever Illuminating

**I have returned!**

**I'm so sorry it's taken me a million years to get this out to you. There was a lot of planning to do, and a week after I started writing I got called in at work and had zero time off for, like, two months, so that really damaged my writing time. But, it's all done now and ready to go. I know it doesn't make up for the three years since Fearless (how crazy is that?) and you guys have been so patient and supportive and wonderful. I've been getting quite a few messages from readers and they've been so sweet, so thank you for that. I sincerely hope this is worth the wait. I had a blast writing it, and it's been quite an adventure getting back into Amber's head.**

**Anyway, you've been waiting far too long for this, so I'll shut up and let you read. Enjoy :)**

**For Libby, Andi and Britt: my beautiful little cheer squad.  
**

**And an extra thank you to Libby for helping me decide on a title for this chapter. It's such a stressful business.**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

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**Chapter One  
Forever Illuminating**

"_I killed Sirius Black!"_

_A horrible pale face, twisted in sick delight of our suffering. Harry's tortured cries. Sirius, the only one he had left, bending backwards and through the hollow archway. A graveyard, a cauldron; the sickening light. But this time, I wasn't there to stop it. This time, Cedric was blasted back and hit the ground with a solid thud, his eyes blank and unseeing; devoid of life. Dead. Gone._

My eyes shot open and I inhaled a ragged gasp down a dry throat. I could feel my heart pounding in frenzied rhythm against my ribs, could feel the cold sweat beading on my forehead, rolling over my temples and into my hair. I had been having the same nightmare for weeks now, ever since the night at the Ministry; and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the images that made my stomach contract in fear and my blood run ice cold.

I sat up in bed and rubbed shaking hands over my face, breathing softly into my palms. The world around me was quiet, peaceful, and yet I was a wreck within. The image of Cedric's lifeless face was burned into my retinas, flashing like a neon sign whenever I closed my eyes. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that seeing Sirius pass on would bring back memories of Cedric's brush with death. But he wasn't dead; he was here, sleeping peacefully in one of The Burrow's bedrooms. He was spending the summer with me, the two of us making the most of the time we had together before we were separated for another year. I had been called to The Burrow on Dumbledore's orders, without much explanation if I was being perfectly honest. But I knew better than to question him, and so I had packed my bags and left for the familiar house with my parents in tow. The Ministry was using their best means of protection for the Weasleys and their home, but we all knew it was for Harry and his wellbeing whenever he came to stay.

Things had not been easy lately. The Millennium Bridge had collapsed, rather violently. The muggles blamed it on poor manufacturing or something of the like, but we knew it was the work of Voldemort and his ilk. It wasn't hard to tell. To add to our troubles, the Dementors had deserted their post at Azkaban and were now working for the Dark Lord. The Ministry didn't have much to say on the matter; they were much happier to sweep the problem under the rug and not have to deal with it unless it was absolutely necessary.

Cowards.

I heaved a sigh and tried to relax back into the mattress, but my mind was spinning. Thoughts of bridges and graveyards and archways and dark eyes haunted me until I drifted back into a restless sleep.

x-x-x

"How much longer do I have to do this?"

"Until I tell you to stop."

I groaned. "But all the blood is rushing to my head."

"Too bad. Focus."

I glared at the upside down figure of Remus Lupin, who seemed to be enjoying this torture he called 'training.' Half the things he was making me do sounded like stupid ways to get a laugh at my expense, but according to him they were all ways to build up my core body strength, which was apparently lacking. "I don't like you."

Remus chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Insult me all you like, my dear, but I'm not letting you down. Come on, now, give me another."

I took a deep breath and hoisted my body upwards until I was staring at my thighs before dropping back down. My stomach muscles burned, but at least I did as he asked. Remus had been sent by Dumbledore to 'get me ready' for the upcoming school year, whatever that meant. I hadn't been put under any strict training since Professor Umbridge took it upon herself the previous year, and that hadn't gone well in the slightest. But Remus was much better, for not only was he concerned with my strength and wellbeing; he actually knew the limit of my powers.

I had noticed a change in my gifts over the break, a small shift in my core that both confused and excited me. Remus informed me that it was perfectly normal, for as I grew and changed, so would my powers, which were apparently set to mature sometime soon, possibly after I came of age. I looked forward to it, mainly because I didn't like being kept in the dark about my own body and what it was doing. Nonetheless, I still didn't see why it was absolutely necessary for me to be hanging upside down from a metal beam so I could do sit ups, or pull ups or whatever the hell Remus wanted to call them.

"Remus," I whined, not even bothering to care that I sounded like an impatient child. "I don't want to do this anymore."

But he ignored me, gazing out over the dry lands that surrounded the tall house. With a petulant sniff, I unhooked my legs from the beam and dropped back to the ground. Unfortunately I wasn't fast enough in righting my body, and as such fell flat on my back, effectively blasting the air from my lungs and winding myself.

_Now _Remus turned around, took one look at me lying on the ground and smiled. "See? That's what happens when you don't do what I tell you."

I merely narrowed my eyes, unable to breathe in deep enough to swear at him.

A soft laugh shattered my frustration and I looked skyward just in time to see Cedric's face swoop into my line of sight, his feet on either side of my head as he gazed down at me. "Are you alright?" he asked, trying not to smile at my misfortune. I managed a weak croak and he gave in to his amusement, grinning down at me and taking my hand to pull me to my feet.

"Thanks," I said, my voice rough and scratchy as I tried to regulate my breathing. "Where were you ten minutes ago?" I teased.

He held up his hands in surrender, sea coloured eyes dancing with mirth. "I was letting Remus do his job," he replied and reached out to pluck a blade of grass from my hair. "Although I got the feeling it wouldn't be long until you started complaining."

Remus crossed his arms over his chest, smiling a little at our exchange. "Perhaps she'll flourish more under your instruction, Cedric," he said. "I need a rest."

I watched my third year professor wander back towards the house and bit my tongue to keep myself from taunting him for giving in so easily. We had been training for almost six hours every day, and while I felt fantastic and much more confident in my abilities, I was tired, and so was he. We bickered a little, but we both knew it was fatigue induced and didn't stem from any dislike toward each other.

Cedric touched my cheek and I swung my gaze back to his face. He looked so much older than he did the day I met him. What had then been a face still rounded and innocent with youth was now strong and manly. He had a light shadow of stubble across his jaw and his hair was an unruly mess - as usual - but I had never found him more attractive. He was, of course, always beautiful to me, but I was particularly fond of this look. Cherry red lips smiled at me as he noticed my open ogling and I blushed. "What?" I asked, still a little dazed.

He shrugged his strong shoulders and I found myself distracted by the sinewy muscles hidden beneath his shirt sleeves. "Nothing. Shall we?" I took his offered hand and let him lead me a few paces away, watching as he moved to stand behind me. "After a fall like that, I think some stretching is in order."

I laughed a little as he slid his hands up my sides and under my arms. "That tickles," I informed him when he pressed his curious lips to my shoulder. He chuckled against my skin and guided my arms above my head before gently pulling the left one back toward him until I felt the muscles in my upper and forearm stretching wonderfully, easing the tightness. "That's brilliant."

"You need to learn to stretch more," he encouraged. "It's good for you."

I merely rolled my eyes, relaxing as he helped me stretch all the different parts of my body until I was a wobbly mess. I sometimes found it hard to wrap my head around the fact that Cedric and I had been together almost three years already. The only thing I struggled with in our situation was the terminology. I didn't like the word _boyfriend. _It seemed too simple, too lacking in meaning for what he was to me. As cliché and corny as it sounded he was, for all intents and purposes, my soul mate. I couldn't live without him now that I'd found him, and that terrified me. I feared I wouldn't be able to protect him when he needed me.

After graduating from Hogwarts - and a long conversation with me - Cedric had decided to join the Order of the Phoenix. I had been completely against it at first, shaken by how dangerous a profession it would be for him, the constant risk he was placing himself in. But then I had realized how hypocritical I was being, having been inducted into the Order myself before I was even of age to do so; and then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was also the safest option for him. He would have other people there to protect him, to guide him. He was doing what he felt it was right to do, and I was in no way entitled to change his mind. I wanted him to have that freedom, to make his own choices. I was incredibly proud of him.

Still, I worried. If anyone wished to get to me, all they would have to do is threaten Cedric and I would bend to their will, as I knew he would for me. While we were each other's strength, we were also our own weakness. Despite the risks, I would never stop loving him. I simply couldn't do it.

"Where will you go?" I asked him a few nights later as we lay, entwined in each other, on the bed I was occupying during my time here. Sirius had left all his possessions to his godson, including Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, which had been temporarily evacuated by the Order so that matters could be sorted. Apparently he had also received the grumpy house elf, Kreacher, in the agreement. From what I had been told, Kreacher wasn't very happy about it. "Until the house is open again?"

Cedric pressed his lips to my hair, his fingers gliding over the arm I had draped across his stomach. "I was thinking of going home for a while," he said, watching my snowy owl, Bella, as she called to the moon from the open window. "I haven't really been there since I finished school, and I know mum would enjoy having me home. We're far enough away from town that we should be safe, and I don't think the Death Eaters would think me so important that they would try and track me down."

I frowned. It made sense, but I couldn't ignore the twisting in my stomach. This would be my first year at Hogwarts without him since we met, and I wasn't sure I was ready for it. "You'll say hello to her for me, won't you?" My voice was weak and shaky and I cursed myself for showing it.

"Of course," he said, squeezing my arm with his long fingers. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asked after another moment, picking up on the change in my demeanor.

I sighed. "I'm going to miss you this year," I admitted. "It'll be strange, not seeing you in the Great Hall, or having you help me study over the weekends." Not that we really studied; half the time we ended up wrapped around each other, lips frantic and hands wandering all over the place.

He chuckled, as if sharing my train of thought. "You'll be okay," he soothed. "You can always write to me, and you know you can check in whenever you wish." To further prove his point he leaned back to meet my gaze, smiling as the blue glow swept over my vision, painting everything in its luminescent light. I saw my own face reflected back at me, peaceful and happy as it basked in the familiar warmth of his sight. It no longer took any conscious effort on my part to link with him in this way, nor did he have to make an effort to push his sight toward me. We were totally and completely as one. "I'll always be with you," he promised before leaning down to kiss me. The world disappeared the moment our lips met and I wrapped my arms around him, intent on cherishing the few days we had left together before he had to go.

* * *

**Honey, I'm home :)**

**I know it's not much, but this chapter was pretty much me getting back into Amber's head and basically getting to know her all over again. I can't believe how grown up she is now. *sniffs* She needs to stop growing up so fast. There's a spell or something for that, right? And I figured, since it's been so long, you all deserve a bit of Cedric to welcome you back. He won't be featuring quite as much this time around, seeing as he's not at Hogwarts anymore, but I've worked him in as much as I can without it being overkill - is that an appropriate joke to make considering his history? **

**Also, I absolutely love the scene with Amber and Remus. They have such a sweet relationship.**

**I'm not sure what the posting schedule will be like for this story. I may post once or twice a week depending; I always felt mean making you wait a whole week for an update :) I think I'll just go with the flow this time around.**

**Well, I think that's about all I had to say; and if not I likely won't remember until this has already been posted. Hopefully I'll be back with the next chapter within the week. **

**Until then, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**

**See you soon!  
xx**


	2. Return

**You guys are amazing. Seriously.**

**I was so nervous when I posted the first chapter. I was sure that, because I had taken so long, everyone had given up on me. But I've been getting all manner of alerts and reviews since then, which have definitely eased my mind. I also love that I'm recognizing all your pen names. What, you didn't think I'd forgotten about you? Psh. Never :) I hope as the story goes along, more of my old Amber readers will find it. I know you're out there! Come back, lovelies! I miss you! **

**Anyway, let's continue on, shall we?**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

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**Chapter Two  
Return**

It wasn't a long, drawn out goodbye. Cedric and I stood together, a little ways away from the others, foreheads pressed together as we breathed each other in. We exchanged promises to be safe until we were together again, and to stay out of trouble. I groaned when Cedric told me to study hard, and he did the same when I reminded him to eat his vegetables. It was silly, we knew, but it eased the sting of separation.

Remus gave me a brief hug and told me to write to him should I need any help. "You're ready," he said simply, not elaborating at my furrowed brow and curious eyes. "Take care of yourself," he added and I managed a slight nod before hugging him again. After Sirius passed away, Remus had become very important to me. He knew so much about what I was capable of, and guided me when I lost my way. Molly once said that he looked at me like I was his daughter, and the thought made my heart swell with joy.

I took some time to say goodbye to my parents, who had watched over me from the sidelines during their stay. My mother, Kyla, shed a few tears, encouraging me to enjoy my year at school while my father, Jason, ruffled my hair into a tangled mess, hugged me tight and promised to watch out for Cedric while I was gone. I loved my parents more than anything, and made sure they knew it; especially after realizing how easily it could all be taken away.

Cedric's pale, dead face flashed behind my eyes again and I grimaced, doing my best to push the image from my mind. I glanced over at Cedric's flushed, very alive face and exhaled, the tightness in my chest easing at the sight. He met my eyes and smiled, and I embraced him once more, the two of us sharing a deep, passionate kiss full of love and promise for the future before they had to leave. There was a violent crack and they were gone, leaving nothing but the quiet, early morning behind.

I'll admit I moped around the house for a little after they left, trying weakly to engage in conversation with Ginny. It was hard, but after checking in with him a few times – he had made it home safe and was happily reuniting with his parents – I was able to relax and reengage with the people around me.

"It's not so bad," Ginny said as we stretched out on the couches after lunch. "At least you have us to keep you company. I could always spoon you at night if you get lonely." She raised her eyebrows, her expression so serious that I burst out laughing, and soon our faces were bright red with the exertion of giggling so much.

A few days passed before Hermione arrived with her ginger cat, Crookshanks, in tow. It was wonderful to see her after so many weeks, the two of us taking a few hours to catch up with Ron and Ginny after Molly had gushed over the newest arrival. No matter how old we got, Molly would always fuss. It was as though she had adopted us into her already large family, and we didn't mind at all.

"Did you see Cedric at all?" she asked as we trudged up the stairs so she could put her bags away. Crookshanks heard Bella chirping and ran ahead, intent on catching her.

I nodded. "Yeah, he was here for a little while. He says hello."

She smiled. "It's good that you got to see him before we left."

I smiled back at her before changing the subject to her summer holiday and what she had gotten up to. I had begun to wonder, after she arrived, whether Harry would join us soon. We often gathered here before the school year started, but it seemed as though we were being called, one by one, to The Burrow.

A few more days went by before I got my answer.

It was late, and most of us were getting ready for bed. Hermione was in the bathroom brushing her teeth, the two of us partaking in a detached - slightly garbled on Hermione's end - conversation. I had just finished pulling my hair back into a tight braid when I caught the sound of Ginny's voice from downstairs.

"_Mum!"_

"_Ginny, what it is?" _Molly replied, her voice closer than her daughters.

"_I was only wondering when Harry got here," _Ginny answered.

I was on my feet in an instant, striding towards the open door and out onto the landing. I could hear Molly making her way down the stairs as she spoke again.

"What? Harry? Harry who?"

"Harry Potter, of course."

"I think I'd know if Harry Potter was in my house, wouldn't I?"

I made it to the wooden railing and peeked over the side. Ginny was at the bottom of the stairs, gazing up at her mother who was still trudging down to meet her. She met my gaze and smiled, shrugging her shoulders, apparently at a loss for an explanation.

"Well, his trunk's in the kitchen," Ginny replied, turning her focus back on Molly. "And his owl."

"No dear, I seriously doubt that."

As if to contradict her words, the sharp screech of an owl rang out from the kitchen. Bella immediately made a noise in response, which was quickly drowned out by Ron's trudging footsteps.

"Harry," he said, his head popping over the railing a story below me. "Did someone say Harry?"

"Me, nosy," Ginny shot back. "Is he up there with you?"

"Course not," Ron said, sounding somewhat miffed. "I think I'd know if my best friend was in my room, wouldn't I?"

"Oh, I don't know…" I trailed off, grinning down at Ron when he whipped his head around to glare up at me. I poked my tongue out at him.

Hermione left the room behind me and joined me at the railing, toothbrush in hand. "Is that an owl I heard?"

"You haven't seen him, have you?" Ginny asked us. "Apparently he's wandering about the house."

I shook my head. "There's no sign of him up here. Perhaps we should check the roof."

Hermione shoved my shoulder before looking back down at Ginny. "Really?"

"Really."

I started at the new voice, blinking in surprise before it registered in my head and I smiled excitedly. So, he _was _here after all.

"Harry!" Molly gasped, racing after her daughter as she disappeared from sight.

I hurried down the stairs after Ron and Hermione and turned into the kitchen to see Harry and Ginny releasing each other from an embrace, both looking just a little bit awkward. I dismissed it soon after and stepped forward to hug Harry after Ron let go, the two of them slapping each other on the back. Ron was by far the tallest out of all of us; I didn't know what Molly was feeding him, but the boy just wouldn't stop growing.

"Hey, Harry," I said before stepping forward and wrapping my arms around him. He held me just as tight and I could feel him smiling into my shoulder. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," he replied, his face alight with happiness. It wasn't hard to tell that he was overjoyed to be with us again.

Molly was next to greet him, pulling him into her arms the moment he was within reach. "What a lovely surprise!" she gushed. "Why didn't you let us know you were coming?"

"I don't know," he said in a rush, giving an energetic shrug of his shoulders. "Dumbledore," he said simply, by way of explanation.

"Oh, that man!" Molly laughed. "But then what would we do without him?"

Harry's gaze traveled over Molly's shoulder and I turned my head to follow it, spotting Ron with his arm half outstretched toward Hermione's face, one finger pointing to the corner of her mouth. She noticed and whirled around on him, eyebrows furrowed half in curiosity, the other half awkward amusement.

"You've got a bit of… toothpaste," Ron said weakly and pulled his hand back, as though he had half a mind to rub it away for her.

Hermione laughed a little breathlessly while the rest of us watched on. I did the polite thing and hid my smile behind my hand.

x-x-x

"So, when did you get here?" Harry asked, the four of us sitting around a small table on the floor in Ron's room, a ball of newspaper burning in the air above it.

"A few days ago," Hermione replied. "Amber was here before me."

"She's been here for weeks," Ron said. "Bloody driving me mad, she was."

I smiled, stretching my leg out to gently nudge his thigh with my toes. He went to grab my foot but I yanked it away just in time to avoid his tickling.

Hermione watched our exchange with faraway eyes and I turned to look at her again. "Though for a while I wasn't sure I was coming," she said quietly.

Ron's face fell at her words. "Mum… sort of lost it last week," he said to Harry. I grimaced; I had witnessed her outburst, the panicked words, insisting her children were not to return to school. "Said Ginny and I had no business going back to Hogwarts, that it's too dangerous."

"Oh, come on," Harry replied, exasperated.

"She's not alone," Hermione spoke up. "Even my parents – they're muggles – know something bad's happening."

"Anyway," Ron continued. "Dad stepped in, told her she was being barmy and… took a few days, but she came round."

"But," Harry hesitated, as if unable to believe Molly would ever say such a thing. "This is Hogwarts we're talking about. It's _Dumbledore, _what could be safer?"

We were all quiet for a moment. It was Hermione who finally spoke up. "There's been a lot of talk recently that… Dumbledore's got a bit old."

"Rubbish!" Harry argued. "He's only…" he frowned and looked to Ron for an answer. "What is he?"

"A hundred and… fifty?" Ron guessed. "Give or take a few years."

The contradiction of their words, as well as the strange turn our conversation took made laughter bubble up my throat and into the open. Hermione was giggling to my left, while Ron let out a strange whistling laugh that made me cackle even harder. Harry watched us with soft eyes, his laughter marginally quieter, as the newspaper began to shrivel under the flickering embers.

It was nearing midnight before we started turning in for bed. Ron was already sound asleep, his snoring echoing down the hall. Hermione had also decided to call it a night, but I wasn't quite ready to sleep yet. I stood out in the cool night air, blue eyes glowing as I focused on Cedric; he was fast asleep, his dreams nothing but flickers of colour and familiar faces. I saw my own several times, heard the sound of my laughter, my voice telling him I loved him. It was a comforting sight and I found myself watching for what felt like hours.

"Can't sleep?"

I blinked at the voice, breaking the connection with my slumbering partner before looking to my side. Harry was leaning against the railing, gazing out at the vast land that surrounded us. The sky was clear and full of stars and if you looked carefully, you could just make out the sight of Bella and Hedwig soaring through the sky, accompanying each other on a late night hunt. My eyes were back to their usual emerald green by the time I spoke.

"I don't know, I haven't tried yet," I told him. "I probably should go soon, but I wanted to make sure everyone was safe."

He nodded, reaching out to tug on the end of my long, chocolate braid. "Did you cut your hair?"

I shrugged. "Just a little. It's by no means short, though. Ron keeps complaining that he's finding my hair in his food," I laughed. "I'm pretty sure it's Crookshanks, but he enjoys blaming me."

Harry smiled but remained silent, bright eyes focused on the sky. I tentatively broached another subject. "How are you… after everything?"

His face twisted a little and I felt instant remorse. I was about to apologize and change the subject when he started speaking. "I'm… okay." He looked over at me and sighed. "Fine, I'm not okay, but I'm coping. And you?"

"Me?" I asked, surprised. "I'm fine. I'm more concerned about you."

He sighed. "It's kind of hard to talk about," he said softly.

"I figured. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

He nodded his understanding and we were silent for a while, watching the horizon. Without my doing so, the blue glow fell over me again and I saw Dumbledore walking down a quiet street, guiding Harry into a house that looked as though it had been completely torn apart. The scene flickered to a man's head popping out of the back of an armchair, and then a cabinet full of photos. The images went away as quickly as they came and I looked at him, confused. "What was that about?"

Harry looked startled, as though he hadn't meant to share those images with me. "Sorry, I didn't even realize I was doing it." I had always had a strong bond with Harry, which made it easy for me to see inside his head. It wasn't the first time he'd done something like that, and I was certain it wouldn't be the last. I looked at him expectantly and he surrendered, telling me about how Dumbledore had plucked him from the train station earlier in the evening and taken him to see a man called Horace Slughorn, whom he wanted to return to Hogwarts to teach. Why, Harry didn't know. But he was to get to know the professor, let him 'collect' him. Apparently Dumbledore had given him permission to let me know about his situation and he'd been trying to think of the best way to bring it up when he had unknowingly shared the information with me.

"Huh," I murmured when he was done. "What does he mean by letting him collect you?"

Harry shook his head. "I have absolutely no idea."

I pursed my lips. "Certainly sounds like the way Dumbledore gives information."

"What should we do now?"

"The only choice we have is to wait and see what happens," I said, unsure of any other option.

We stood together for a while longer, talking about trivial things. I told him that my family had moved into a new house over the summer, somewhere free of the city where we would be safe. At least for now. Harry hugged me again before he went to bed and I watched as he closed the door to Ron's room behind him. The continuous calling of the owls followed me into my dreams.

* * *

**It's great having them all together again :) It definitely feels like Amber is much more socially interactive in this story. I'm so proud.**

**Alas, Cedric has left us for a little while. But never fear! He'll be back again soon. I promise.**

**I'll update again a little later in the week. In the meantime, I'm always on Twitter if you want to say hi. My handle is BlueWinterAngel. God, I'm so original ;)**

**Until then, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

**See you soon! **

**xx**


	3. Under a Darkening Sky

**Two updates in the same week? Man, I'm on a roll.**

**Unfortunately****, there'll be a bit of a lull in new chapters for a few weeks. I have a friend coming over from the States - who arrives tomorrow, actually. Hooray! - so I won't be home much, and even when I am I doubt I'll be on the computer long enough to update. I will, however, post a new chapter if I get the chance. This one is a bit longer than the others, so hopefully it's enough to tide you over until I get back :)**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Three  
Under a Darkening Sky**

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was by far the liveliest place in Diagon Alley these days. It was practically filled to bursting with Hogwarts students; some obvious first years while others were familiar faces that would be following the rest of us into our sixth year. The moment I stepped through the front door into the shop I was pulled out of the way of what looked like a miniature rogue comet, sparkling and frantic as it swooped over our heads and up toward the high ceiling of the chaotic store, whistling all the while.

"I feel like I should be wearing safety gear," I said to Hermione, raising my voice over the cacophony of noise as we walked further into the madness.

"Pity," she replied with a laugh. "We should have put it on the list."

"_Step up, step up!"_ came two familiar voices as Ron and Harry practically sprinted away from us to search through the items on the shelves. I glanced toward the staircase and smiled as I spotted Fred and George standing on the first landing, wearing matching suits and shouting to the potential customers around them.

"_We've got Fainting Fancies -"_

"_Nosebleed Nougats –"_

"_And just in time for school –"_

"_Puking Pastilles!" _

I grimaced a little at the end of their sales pitch. I remembered well the days when they used to test their products on willing – and sometimes unwilling – first year students back at school. The mess they made was unbelievable.

Ginny was the first of us to start exploring, dragging Hermione and I along behind her as she made her way toward the trick wands. I broke away from her to examine the nearby shelves, recognizing the box that held their recently perfected Skiving Snackboxes. I couldn't hold back my laughter when I discovered a new product called U-NO-POO: _The constipation sensation that's gripping the nation!_ I moved away a little while later; if the twins caught me looking at such a thing they'd nag and nag until I tested it, and that was the last thing I wanted to do today.

I couldn't believe how many things there were to choose from. Fred and George were doing very well for themselves, and the knowledge comforted me, especially after they left school during the fifth year students OWL exams last year. Speaking of fifth year, Ron excitedly pointed out an item that soon became my favourite thing I had seen so far. Wobbling high above my head was a moving, talking – or shouting, more like – miniature sized Professor Delores Umbridge, riding a unicycle on a thin rope with scales balanced over her shoulders. Her shrill, whiney voice repeatedly shrieked: _I really hate children. I will have order!_

You certainly couldn't accuse them of lacking creativity.

Fred and George found us a little while later, Hermione and Ginny inspecting tiny pink bottles of love potion, the bubbles that rose from the flowery stand making little kissing sounds as they burst. "Hello ladies," they greeted in perfect synchronization. I smiled from where I stood a little ways back; I had no need for such substances. Instead I inspected the small cages on the shelf behind me, each one housing a small, fluffy creature known as a Pygmy Puff. I had to admit, they were alarmingly adorable.

"Love potions, eh?" inquired Fred and I turned to look at him. "Yeah, they really do work!" he continued, noticing their doubtful expressions. It was an amusing image, picturing Fred and George bent over a bubbling cauldron of love potion.

"Then again," George said, "the way we hear it, sis, you're doing just fine on your own."

"Meaning?" Ginny asked, looking a little startled at their knowledgeable accusation.

"Are you not currently dating Dean Thomas?" George went on, a mischievous grin on his almost constantly smiling lips. I noticed Harry watching us from a few paces behind the twins, a curious expression on his face.

Ginny, who had since recovered from her surprise, now worked hard to hide her smile. "It's none of your business," she said, put down the vial of potion and joined me at the Pygmy cages. Hermione looked past us and quickly put down her vial as well, trying her best to look busy with… well, anything really.

I took a moment to speak to the twins while the girls fawned over the fluffy animals. "Doing a roaring trade here, I see," I said, raising my voice again to get their attention.

Fred looked back over his shoulder while George offered a young boy with a rather green face a cauldron. "Well, well, look who it is!" he cried, holding his arms out for a hug that I sank into without hesitation. "I didn't see you before."

"Too busy teasing your sister," I laughed. "You'd want to be careful with that. I hear she's still pretty good at that Bat Bogey Hex."

Fred scoffed, looking at his brother as he turned to greet me. "Anything here caught your fancy, Miss Dawson?" George teased.

"Apart from your dazzling faces?" I shot back, giggling at the way he puffed out his chest in response. "Actually, I'm really impressed with all the things you have here. Those Patented Daydream Charms are really something," I said, my voice full of sincerity. "Even Hermione was impressed."

They smiled at each other. "Well, if you see anything you like," Fred said after a moment of silence, "Take it. It's on the house."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," I said.

"Nonsense," George argued. "Consider it a late birthday present. After all, you're going to need something to keep you entertained this year without us to keep you company."

"And Cedric of course," Fred added as an afterthought. "But we're much lovelier."

"And handsomer."

"And have better senses of humor."

"… But don't tell him we said that."

I laughed, reminded once again of how much I would miss them this year. We spoke for a little while longer before they were called away by one of their staff; they'd made it half way up the stairs when Ron found them, holding a circular box with a label I couldn't quite read from here. "How much for this?" he asked.

"Five Galleons," the twins responded.

Ron's face fell, or at least I think it did. "How much for _me_?"

"Five Galleons."

"I'm your brother," he said, sounding a little irritated at their insistence.

They shared a look and shrugged. "_Ten _Galleons," they said before continuing up the stairs.

I laughed, but the sound was drowned out by the continuous popping, whizzing and honking sounds from around the store. Harry noticed me and beckoned me over to where he and Hermione stood just as Ron turned around and murmured a surly, "Come on, let's go."

Harry grinned to himself the whole way to the front door and even Hermione wore a smile as the youngest Weasley boy trudged along behind us. Harry and I both offered to buy the item for him, but he refused, saying it wasn't important. It looked as though one of us would have to buy it for him in secret over the next few weeks.

I was a little unwilling to leave the lively, colourful store, but the others were adamant. Ginny remained behind, talking with her parents – who had arrived without us noticing – about which Pygmy Puff she should get.

"How are Fred and George doing it?" Hermione asked in disbelief as we stepped out into the dark, almost unfamiliar street we walked at the start of every school year. It was practically deserted these days; the sight was heartbreaking. "Half the alley's closed down."

"Fred reckons people need a laugh these days," Ron replied.

"I reckon he's right," Harry agreed.

We had barely gone ten paces before Hermione stopped walking, gazing past us at a familiar, dark wood building. I released a heavy sigh when I noticed the faded, cracked sign. "Oh no," she said sadly. "Everyone got their wands from Olivanders."

I had heard the news that the famous wandmaker had vanished, but no one had a clue where he had gone. The Order suspected Death Eater activity, but what would Voldemort need with Olivander? We followed Harry into the ransacked, half burned down store, the door creaking angrily as it swung open. Ash fell from its frame and I brushed it out of my hair, eyes scanning the tarnished shelves, the scorched rectangular boxes that held wands of all different kinds. I remembered the day I came to get my wand; little had I known that the one I chose – or the one that chose me – would be the clue to the gifts I would receive a few years later.

"Who would do such a thing?" I whispered into the darkness, my voice rough with the strain of holding back frustrated tears. I felt Harry's hand on my shoulder; we knew exactly who would do such a thing. "Do you think they'll be able to replace all the wands?"

Neither Harry nor Hermione had the chance to answer, for Ron spoke up mere seconds after I finished my question. "Harry?" We all turned at the soft, curious sound of his voice. "Is it me or do Draco and Mummy look like two people who don't want to be followed?"

Hermione peeked over Ron's shoulder while I stepped to Harry's side so I could see out the window. Sure enough, Draco and Narcissa Malfoy were standing at the mouth of Knockturn Alley, looking around hesitantly, as if checking to make sure no one was trailing them. A moment later the elegant woman strode forward and out of sight, Draco walking after her, dressed in a black suit and a rather sour expression on his face.

"Well, we can either let them go about their business, or we can see what they're up to," I said quietly, knowing my statement was pointless. It wasn't long before we were all huddled at the edge of the alley, gazing down into the dark tunnel. I could hear the distant sound of tortured screaming and my spine tingled with discomfort.

"Come on," Harry said. We followed him willingly as he led the stealthy charge down the alleyway. We encountered some strange people on our way, including a man partaking in a rather emotional exchange with the brick wall. Ron gave him a very wide berth.

The mother and son duo eventually led us to the sinister shop, Borgin and Burke's, the bell jingling as they opened the door and stepped inside. We hung back, knowing full well that we'd cause quite the scene if we followed them inside.

"What now?" Ron whispered.

As if in answer, the sound of a light switch being flicked on reached my ears from behind us. I could see the glow from over the roof of a rather shabby looking house; it looked deserted enough, and so, one by one, we boosted ourselves onto the tiled roof and crawled to the center point. I slipped half way up and Harry grabbed my hand before I fell, the sound of the tile that had come loose shattering on the ground drowned out by the furious dog barking that echoed from another alleyway.

By the time we reached the top, Draco was already in the back section of the store, walking in a circle around a rather peculiar looking artifact. I hooked my fingers over the railing to hold myself steady and narrowed my eyes, trying to focus through the dusty window. Draco seemed to be examining the object thoroughly: testing the latches, pressing his ear to the side, running his fingers over the raised pattern on its dark surface. I pursed my lips in thought, trying to make sense of his strange behavior.

Harry began to shuffle to the left, which forced the rest of us to follow suit, as he was on the end of the line. We moved just well enough to get a good view of Narcissa kissing her son on the cheek before a hulking figure in black robes stepped in front of the window and we all ducked out of sight, clinging to the tiles as we pressed ourselves against the side of the roof. My heart raced and I distinctly noticed the dull throbbing in my stomach that hinted at the use, or presence of, Dark Magic. We waited a moment before looking again, but the shutter was down over the window.

x-x-x

September 1st brought with it the usual excitement; we made our way to the train station and through to the platform before loading our bags and saying goodbye to those who accompanied us. Ginny had purchased a fluffy pink Pygmy Puff during her time in Diagon Alley, and proudly announced to us afterward that his name was Arnold.

I gazed out the compartment window as the train rolled down the long track that would eventually lead us to Hogsmead station. The scenery was familiar and I relished in the comfort of such a sight as my fingers idly turned the pages of the copy of _The Quibbler_ I had received from Luna as she passed by our carriage.

"So what was Draco doing with that weird looking cabinet? And who were all those people?"

I bit back a sigh. Harry had been going on about what we saw at Borgin and Burke's almost the whole time since we left the station. It had been an interesting topic at first, but it was fast becoming tedious. I almost considered taking a nap to escape the monotony of his accusations, and then felt horrible for thinking such a thing.

"Don't you see," he went on from where he sat beside me. I had been half draped across him for most of the trip, but now that he was using his hands to further enunciate his words, I had been forced to remove my legs from his lap. "It was a ceremony. An initiation."

I looked away from the window at his words, my eyes wide. Hermione spoke before I could. "Stop it, Harry," she scolded. "I know where you're going with this."

He ignored her. "It's happened. He's one of them."

"Harry," I warned, my voice low.

"One of what?" Ron asked, not quite catching on.

Hermione's words were tired and condescending, "Harry is under the impression Draco Malfoy is now a Death Eater."

Ron snorted, shifting a little in his seat. "You're barking," he said, a small smile on his face. "What would You-Know-Who want with a sod like Malfoy?"

"Well," Harry faltered a bit, but quickly found his way. "Then, what's he doing in Borgin and Burke's, browsing for furniture?"

"It's a creepy shop, he's a creepy bloke."

"Look," Harry went on. "His _father _is a Death Eater, it only makes sense. Besides, Hermione saw it with her own eyes." He gestured to her, sitting across from him in the small compartment.

"I told you," she replied, gently trying to ease herself away from the spotlight. "I don't know what I saw."

Harry sat there for a long moment and I could see the tense excitement of his theories quickly leaving his body, making his shoulders slump. We were all confused and unwilling to make a solid assumption, except Harry. He was all too willing to accuse Malfoy of dark deeds. "I need some air," he finally said, not bothering to hide his frustration. I watched as he stood and reached up onto the rack above our heads to retrieve a small bundle of fabric – was that his Invisibility Cloak? Before I could question him on his actions, he was gone.

I slumped back into the seat and rubbed a hand over my eyes. "That went well," I sighed.

Hermione looked up from her book a second time. "You don't believe him, do you?"

I shrugged weakly. "I don't know. I'm not saying Malfoy is a Death Eater now, but there's definitely something going on."

"What, like, he's carrying on the family tradition?" Ron interjected with a shake of his head.

I frowned. "Not quite, but you're on the right track. Perhaps…" I trailed off, trying to figure out the best way to word my jumbled thoughts. "Perhaps… he feels obligated to continue his father's work. Perhaps, with Lucius in prison, Voldemort has turned to his son instead." I pursed my lips and tossed my _Quibbler _aside. "All I know is that while we were watching him last night, I was hurting. There was Dark Magic in that store, I could feel it."

"That shop is all about Dark Magic," Ron argued. "Perhaps you were just reacting. I mean, how often do we go for a stroll in that dingy place?"

"Maybe," I said weakly. "But that still doesn't explain the cabinet."

They both looked at me with the same expression on their face, like they couldn't believe I was defending these crazy theories. "I know you think I'm insane right now, but I don't want him to feel like everything he's saying is being overlooked. He may not show it, but he's hurting over Sirius's death."

Hermione's eyes softened. "I see your point, but it's best we leave it at that for now. The last thing we need is for Harry to make a wild accusation about another student and get himself expelled."

"I suppose you're right," I sighed, shifting so that I could stretch my legs out over the seat. I picked up my fallen _Quibbler _and found the page I had been reading, my eyes skimming the words, but not acknowledging them as the train rocked beneath us.

* * *

**It's strange that I feel more comfortable writing Amber now than I have any other time. It seems that three year break did us both some good :)**

**I always tend to have a favourite scene in each chapter, and in this one it was without a doubt the scene in Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. It's one of my favourites in the movie, too, and to have Amber goofing around with Fred and George again was a great feeling. I feel like if I let her spend more than half an hour with them she'd get all giggly and silly - which would probably be good for her. There's so much angst in her life these days. Cheer up, kiddies!**

**I'm not sure when I'll be back next, but hopefully it's not too long :) I'll miss you all too much.**

**In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

**Until next time!**

**xx**


	4. Blind

**You weren't expecting to see me again so soon, were you?**

**Unfortunately, my friend's plans fell through and she wasn't able to make it over. Yeah, it's disappointing, but it also means I get to keep this impressive posting schedule I've got going on right now. Well, it's not really a schedule. I just try and post twice a week. Hooray :)**

**There's not much to this chapter, but you get those every now and again. I still think it's interesting, but I'm biased. Whatever. **

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Four  
Blind**

Harry didn't come back, even as we pulled into the station at Hogsmead. I had considered checking in on him, just to make sure he was alright, but Hermione encouraged me to give him space. He needed to cool down and probably wouldn't appreciate me probing around in his thoughts. Besides, we were on the Hogwarts Express. He was safe here.

I almost reminded her of the time Dementors had made their way onto the train, but decided against it. They were monsters, these were just students.

Nonetheless, by the time the train came to a stop and people began to retrieve their bags from the upper compartments, Hermione looked a little nervous. "Where's Harry?" she asked tentatively as we stepped out into the narrow corridor, small bags in hand.

"He's probably already on the platform," Ron soothed her. "Come on."

I checked the racks for any of Harry's belongings before I left, but he had taken his cloak, which was the only carry-on he brought with him. My stomach twisted unpleasantly as we stepped off the train and onto the platform, a thin layer of steam in the air as the engine cooled. I scanned the crowds for Harry's face, but none stood out to me. "I don't think he's here," I said as we made our way to the carriages, having said a quick hello to Hagrid and Fang. Ron was still wiping the drool from his hands.

"If you're that worried, why not check on him?" Ron suggested. I looked to Hermione to make sure she was okay with me doing so, having been the one to argue the idea in the first place. She nodded, her eyes shining with concern.

I waited until we were in the carriage and rolling gently up the path to the castle before I tried. It was a little harder than usual to find him, but find him I did. I opened my eyes as the blow glow swept over my vision and my head immediately began to spin. I felt a sharp burning sensation in my nose and pressed my fingers against it, making sure it was still in one piece. My vision was blurry, indistinct colours and shapes floating before me, making little to no sense. I heard a deep voice, wobbly and barely audible and then silence. Feeling slightly nauseated, I relinquished my hold on his mind and dropped my head into my hands, breathing heavily until the sensation went away.

"You alright?" Ron asked.

I lifted my head and gazed at him. His face was clear as crystal, voice sharp and perfectly audible. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just…"

"You look a little sick," Hermione spoke up, paying no mind to the third years who occupied the other spaces in the carriage. "Is Harry okay?"

"I _feel_ a little sick," I admitted. My face felt flushed and unpleasant; I brushed the hair away from my cheeks and sighed. "I think he's alright. I couldn't really make sense of what I was seeing. It was all blurry and horrible." Her face twisted in panic and I quickly backtracked. "I'm sure he's okay. Perhaps it's me; I may just be a little tired."

By the time we reached the castle and dismounted the carriage, my head was clear and my face was back to its usual shade. I kept my eyes out for Harry as we made our way inside and changed into our robes, but he wasn't there. Hermione suggested checking in on him again as we seated ourselves at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, but I declined. I didn't want to feel that horrible nausea again. Instead, I settled for scanning every face that passed me and listening to each voice within earshot, hoping to hear Harry talking.

Ron, however, didn't seem bothered in the slightest. He ate more than any of us during dinner, shoveling food into his mouth before he'd finished chewing the previous bite – honestly, I wasn't even sure if he knew what he was eating half the time. I was amazed that he wasn't full to bursting by the time dessert rolled around; alas, he filled a bowl with cream and jelly and dug in.

"Don't worry," he said for what felt like the millionth time, noticing the way Hermione looked continually at the double doors of the Great Hall. "He'll be here in a minute." And he ate yet _another _spoonful of jelly.

Hermione turned, her eyes frosty and cold as Ron hummed a little at the sweet tasting food. I sat across the table from them, Ginny a little ways to my left. Ron noticed the look on my face and raised his eyebrows in question a second before Hermione began beating his arm with the book she held. "_Will you stop eating!" _she scolded harshly, each word punctuated by a hard slap of the book on his bicep before she dropped it onto the table. "Your best friend is missing!"

Ron made a startled sound in the back of his throat, his mouth still full of jelly which he swallowed hastily in order to answer her. "Turn around, you lunatic," he ordered, insulted that she'd accuse him of such heartlessness.

I whipped my head around at his words and exhaled in relief as I saw Harry walking down the corridor towards us, Luna by his side. My happiness at his appearance was not made to last, however, for I quickly spotted the handkerchief he held, scrunched up into a ball and more red than white, under his nose.

"He's covered in blood again," Ginny said. I felt my lips pull back from my teeth at the sight. "Why is it he's always covered in blood?" she went on, frustrated.

"Looks like it's his own this time," Ron replied softly.

"_Where have you been?" _Hermione demanded of him the second he sat down between Ginny and I. Her eyes narrowed when Harry lowered the handkerchief and we all spotted the dried blood that had been leaking from his nose. "What happened to your face?"

"Later," Harry said, gratefully taking the goblet of pumpkin juice I offered him. "What have I missed?"

Ron answered him, having just swallowed another mouthful of jelly. "Sorting Hat urged us all to be brave and strong in these troubled times. Easy for it to say, though, it's a hat, innit?"

I smiled, shaking my head as he went back to his dessert. Ginny moved the handkerchief across Harry's face, dabbing at a bit of blood he missed. He thanked her and turned to me when he felt my hand on his arm. "What?"

"Is everything okay?" I asked him, not bothering to hide my concern.

His eyes flickered back and forth between mine. "Yeah. Yeah, it's okay."

I was incredibly tempted to delve into his memories just to make sure he was telling the truth, but the sound of our Headmasters voice ringing out over the room made us all fall silent and turn to listen. I placed my hand over Harry's free one and squeezed; his fingers tightened under mine, apologetic and reassuring. He knew of the promise I had made to his godfather, and the fact that he'd gotten himself injured on our first night back at school was a little alarming. It seemed as though I may very well have my work cut out for me this year.

"Very best of evenings to you all," Dumbledore began, and I relaxed a little at the familiar ritual of his start of year speech. "First off, let me introduce the newest member of our staff: Horace Slughorn." I sat up in my seat as everyone politely applauded the new teacher; so that was who Dumbledore had taken Harry to see. I recognized the round, slightly wrinkled face from the memories Harry had shown me at The Burrow. "Professor Slughorn, I'm happy to say, has agreed to resume his old post as Potions master. Meanwhile the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts will be taken by Professor Snape."

The whispers began almost instantly and I felt my own eyes widen in surprise. Snape had been after that position for years; why now would Dumbledore suddenly allow him to take the post? He had filled in for Remus a few years prior, and that certainly hadn't been the most pleasant class of my school career, but nor was it the worst. The applause was a bit lacking this time, most of the noise coming from the delighted students at the Slytherin table.

"Now, as you know," Dumbledore went on, having given us a few moments to absorb the news. "Each and every one of you was searched upon your arrival here tonight." I shared a quick glance with Hermione; that had been a new experience, having Filch check us over for dark substances and the like with a Secrecy Sensor. "And you have the right to know why. Once there was a young man who, like you, sat in this very Hall, walked this castle's corridors, stepped under its roof. He seemed to all the world a student like any other; his name, Tom Riddle." The hushed, somewhat frantic whispers began again, as they always did when Voldemort was mentioned. "Today, of course, he's known all over the world by another name. Which is why, as I stand looking out upon you all tonight I'm reminded of a sobering fact; every day, every hour, this very minute, perhaps, dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle's walls. But in the end, their greatest weapon is you." I felt my stomach clench at his words and couldn't help but think of the Aurors who had been placed here at the castle to protect us. "Just something to think about," he finished casually before raising his voice. "Now, off to bed. Pip pip."

Students began rising to their feet, discussing in small groups the speech he had just given and whether or not there were Death Eaters outside school boundaries. I blocked them out, not wanting to hear the dreadful theories.

"That was cheerful," Ron sighed as we got up to leave. I managed a weak smile but kept my eyes on Harry as we made our way out into the bustling corridor.

Once we were back in the safety of the common room, with its familiar red and gold hues and roaring fireplace, Harry finally told us what had happened to his face. From what he told us, he had used one of Fred and George's products – Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – to black out the Slytherin carriage on the train, so that he could don his cloak and hide in the overhead racks. He had overheard Malfoy boasting about having no need to return to Hogwarts the following year, and something to do with Charms class. Afterwards, Malfoy had discovered him and had given him a rather brutal kick to the face, which resulted in the broken nose he had been sporting before Luna mended it for him after finding him paralyzed on the floor. I smiled at her helpfulness; I had missed Luna since the DA disbanded last year. I would have to speak to her again sometime. Nonetheless, the fact that Draco had jinxed Harry and then injured him made my blood burn with the fierce desire to claw his face like a rabid animal.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said after Harry was done. "He was just showing off for Parkinson; you know, talking himself up to impress her."

Harry's face twisted in frustration at the refusal to believe him. We all believed that Malfoy had disfigured his nose, but this was another story entirely. It didn't seem like he'd given any clear evidence to what he was doing, and so I couldn't find a way to back him up in his theories. The conversation topic eventually changed to our upcoming classes; I had received enough good grades in my OWLs to continue on with the classes I needed to follow an occupation as an Auror. It had been hard for me to decide on something, but it seemed to be the logical choice. I was meant to protect people, so why not protect them by capturing dark wizards? Seemed smart enough.

"Harry," I called a few hours later, as the four of us made our way up the stairs to our dormitories. Harry paused on the landing and looked back at me. "Come here a minute?"

"Sure. What's the matter?" he asked, watching me with curious eyes. The blood was gone from his face, the only remaining sign of his earlier injury.

"Nothing. At least, I think it's nothing. Just let me…" I trailed off and let myself connect with him, my vision swapping to his with practiced ease. I saw myself though blue tinted vision, my face tight with concentration, as though I was braced for something unpleasant. I had been expecting the nausea, the rolling of my stomach and the clammy, overly hot sensation to return, but it hadn't. "Huh," I mumbled, relinquishing my hold on him. "Perhaps it was just a one time thing."

He narrowed his eyes and I smiled reassuringly. "I'll see you in the morning?" he said, more of a question than a statement.

I nodded and pat his shoulder. "Of course. Sleep well, Harry." We left for our beds, my mind a bit more at ease knowing the horrid sensation was gone. I figured it was because of the jinx and the injury that my mind had gone fuzzy. Still, it felt like I was missing something.

* * *

**Uh oh. What's up with Amber?**

**I always wanted her to have her own personal struggles in this story, and I've had so much fun writing it all out. I know that sounds horrible, but she handles herself well. Sort of.**

**And I can't be the only one who thinks it's weird being at Hogwarts without Cedric. Move over, Amber, I'm more depressed than you right now. I'm suffering from Cedric withdrawals D: Someone hold me.**

**Well, I'll be back later in the week. I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)**

**Until then, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

**See you soon!**

**xx**


	5. Shadows on the Surface

**You know, I'm really enjoying this two updates a week thing :)**

**I'd almost forgotten how big this chapter is. The pre-read took forever omg. It always feels good when you read something you've written and find that you're really happy with it. We're out harshest critics, after all.**

**Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Five  
Shadows on the Surface**

As I had suspected, Professor Snape seemed to flourish under his new teaching post. Our first lesson consisted of everyone trying – and mostly failing – to use non verbal spells. It was quite a large task for our first lesson, but Snape was adamant that such a skill was necessary. I didn't doubt that it was, but to start the year with such a thing seemed a little over the top. Hermione and I had been paired together and it was no surprise that she was one of the first to accomplish the earlier instructions, using a simple binding charm to lock my arms and legs together. I grinned at her, the two of us laughing as I fell backwards onto my butt. I had more trouble than her; I could cast without a wand, having been all but forced to learn how to do so under Umbridge's instruction. It was something I had done in my fourth year, but I was much better at it now. However I had since switched to casting with a wand again, not liking the unpleasant memories the new skill roused in my mind.

It was common knowledge that I enjoyed the class as a whole – it was one of my best, after all. I had been trained to excel in such areas. Yet I found myself relieved when Snape ended the lesson; it would take some getting used to, being taught by him for this class. Remus was still my favourite.

By early afternoon Hermione and I were in the dungeons, attending our first Potions class of the year. Harry had not received the required grade to carry on into NEWT level potions – I still didn't know how I'd managed to pass – and Ron just plain hated the subject, so imagine my surprise when they appeared in the doorway, looking a little awkward standing there by themselves.

"Attention to detail in the preparation is the prerequisite of all planning…" Slughorn trailed off as he noticed our attention shift to the door. He turned to investigate, seemingly pleased with what he found. "Ah! Harry, my boy, I was beginning to worry. We've brought someone with us, I see."

Ron shifted about before Harry nudged him with his elbow, encouraging him to speak. "Ron Weasley, sir," he said with a strained smile. "But I'm dead awful at Potions, a menace actually, so I'm probably just gonna…" He attempted to back out of the room, but Harry stopped him before he could get too far. Hermione stood beside me and I turned to look at her, but she was watching Lavender Brown, who was staring at Ron with a very strange expression on her face.

"Nonsense," Slughorn replied heartily. "We'll sort you out. Any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine; get your books out." He went to turn back to us, but Harry spoke again.

"Uh, sorry sir, I haven't actually got my book yet and nor has Ron."

"Not to worry, get what you want from the cupboard. Now, as I was saying, I prepared some concoctions this morning. Any ideas what these might be?" Slughorn looked over the faces of his small class and not surprisingly, Hermione's hand shot straight up. There were three cauldrons steaming on the table before us, and I only knew the substance of one, so I didn't have a chance in the world of answering all three correctly. "Yes, miss…?"

"Granger, sir," Hermione supplied, stepping up to the table to examine the contents of each cauldron. "That one there is Veritaserum," she said. I certainly wouldn't have guessed that. "It's a truth telling serum." I knew full well its uses; colourless and odorless, but not entirely undetectable if you knew what to look for. "And that one is Polyjuice Potion." She explained the potions uses, but I had already guessed that and quickly found my attention drawn to the back of the room, where Harry and Ron appeared to be wrestling at the door of the cupboard, fighting over whatever lay within. I hid my laughter behind a small cough, smiling as they emerged with their books in hand, Harry slapping his copy over Ron's, who must have gotten the good one. "And this is Amortentia," Hermione finished and I turned my attention back to her as she riddled off the unfamiliar name. "The most powerful love potion in the world," she explained. I could see a light pink mist swirling above the cauldron and figured it was what had the attention of every other girl in the class. "It's rumoured to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them. For example, I smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and… spearmint… toothpaste." She backed away quickly, her cheeks flushed.

"Now, Amortentia doesn't create actual love," Slughorn said as Hermione took her place beside me again. "That would be impossible, but it does cause powerful infatuation or obsession. And for that reason it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room." He carefully placed the lid over the steaming cauldron, breaking the trance of a small group of girls who had begun creeping towards it, taken by whatever smells were emanating from it. I caught just a whiff as the motion pushed the air toward me and quickly recognized the sweet, earthy, musky scent of Cedric's skin. I had to blink a few times to clear my thoughts, pushing away the painful clench of my heart as I was struck with a wave of longing. I really did miss him.

"Sir." I looked up from my shoes at the sound of Katie's voice, ringing out as the gaggle of female students backed away from the table. "You haven't told us what's in that one." She motioned to a small vial of clear liquid displayed in the centre of the table.

"Ah, yes," Slughorn began, carefully unscrewing the clamp that held the vial aloft. "What you see before you, ladies and gentlemen, is a curious little potion known as Felix Felicis, but it is more commonly referred to as –"

"Liquid Luck," Hermione finished for him, eyes wide.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he praised, holding the vial up for everyone to see. "Liquid Luck; desperately tricky to make, disastrous should you get it wrong. One sip and you will find that all of your endeavors succeed." There was a hum of excitement in the room as everyone considered the possibilities brought on by such a whimsical potion. "At least until the effects wear off," Slughorn finished with a short laugh. "So," he continued, walking around to stand behind the desk. "This is what I offer each of you today: one tiny vial of Liquid Luck to the student who, in the hour that remains, manages to brew an acceptable Draught of Living Death; the recipes for which can be found on page ten of your books." Everyone opened their books and began flipping through the pages for the list of ingredients. "I should point out, however, only once did a student manage to brew a potion of sufficient quality to claim this prize. Nevertheless, good luck to you all. Let the brewing commence!"

We all rushed to our tables, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I crowding around a small one off to the side. I flipped through my book until I found page ten, dragging my finger down the page as I read the list of ingredients before making my way to the shelves to retrieve what I needed. It was a difficult potion, but not impossible, especially if Slughorn saw fit to test us with it on our first day. I in no way intended to be able to brew a good enough draught to win, but I appreciated the challenge.

It was fairly easy to begin with, lots of stirring and the occasional adding of another small ingredient. Everyone seemed to be doing fairly well for the first few minutes, until we reached the Sopophorous Bean. The shell of the small bean was rather hard to cut through, not to mention it jumped all over the place when you put the knife anywhere near it; I failed to hold back my laughter when Ron's bean flew out from under the blade of his knife and whacked Katie Bell in the back of the head. I was surprised she didn't Hex him for it. I could hear someone stabbing repeatedly and focused on my own bean, sitting rather suspiciously on the page of my book. I moved it onto the table and went to cut it, but it wriggled away from the blade. Hermione was trying to keep hers still, wildly shifting her hand about the desk, the frantic bean trapped beneath her curved palm. I sat back for a moment and watched it leap around; counting the beats and directions it took. It hopped in a wonky circle before reaching the centre again and I rapidly slammed my hand down, caught it between my fingers and cut through the middle with my knife. It was almost surprising that the bean didn't shriek in agony as it was sliced in half.

Harry, on the other hand, was already dripping the juice from the ingredient into his cauldron, which hissed and released small sparks at the additive. The bean looked fully intact, merely flattened. "How did you do that?" Hermione asked, having finally cut her bean. She looked at Harry in disbelief.

"Crush it, don't cut it," he advised, squeezing his hand around the bean to release more juice.

"No," Hermione argued breathlessly, as though she couldn't believe he was going against the books instructions. "The instructions specifically say to cut."

"No, really," he said in amazement, but she ignored him.

The longer we worked on our potions, the more they began to differ. I noticed that when Crabbe lowered a leaf into his cauldron to test the potion, it came out twisted and almost glass-like, whereas when Seamus added an ingredient, it blew up in his face. Mine wasn't going too well, having gone a little clumpy and smelling faintly of seaweed; I didn't even want to know. Harry, however, was doing brilliantly, stirring calmly and looking mighty pleased with himself. Hermione seemed stuck, her hair frizzier than I'd ever seen it. Her eyes were pleading and frantic as she stirred; this was the first time Harry had bested her in anything. Ever.

Eventually Slughorn announced that the hour was up and we could stop stirring. I stepped back with a grateful sigh, unsure of what I had managed to make. I had gone off the rails at some point and the concoction I was now presented with was dark blue and wriggling. I think it even squealed a few times. Ron wasn't faring any better, although his was dark and looked like liquorish – and smelled dreadful. I smiled apologetically at the professor as he examined my potion: _perhaps a little more practice, Miss Dawson. _He had been quick to move on, commending Hermione on her efforts as he passed her on his way to Harry.

We all watched as Slughorn dropped a small leaf into the steaming black liquid, gasping in delight as it fizzled and burned away before his eyes. "Merlin's Beard," he said in wonder. "It is perfect! So perfect I daresay one drop would kill us all!"

Hermione looked defeated while Harry merely wiggled his eyebrows, smiling proudly. I laughed and flicked a small piece of leftover Sopophorous Bean at him.

By the time Slughorn called us all together to reward the winner, everyone was looking frazzled and tired – especially Seamus, whose face was still a little dirty. "So here we are, then, as promised," he said. "One vial of Felix Felicis." Harry reached for the vial but Slughorn moved it away. "Congratulations. Use it well," he instructed, handing Harry his prize before beginning a round of tired applause.

Harry looked giddy.

x-x-x

At eight p.m. the following Saturday Harry and I found ourselves wandering down a lonely corridor to the gargoyle that guarded the Headmasters study. Dumbledore had sent a note during our first day of classes, politely requesting both mine and Harry's company. From what I had seen of Harry's memories with Dumbledore during the holidays, I found myself marginally less surprised that I should have been to hear that he was being called on once again.

Harry announced the password – Acid Pops – to the gargoyle that then leaped out of the way and allowed us to step onto the staircase which began its slow ascent to the door. "Do you want to knock?" he asked me when we reached the dark wood barrier.

I gazed at it. "Um, no, it's alright. You can do it." I wasn't nervous by any means. In fact, I was looking forward to seeing the Headmaster after such a long time. I left the job to Harry because he was practically buzzing with excitement, eager to find out what Dumbledore had in store for us; I hoped the small task would help rid him of some of his energy, despite how silly it sounded. I could practically feel the air vibrating around him.

Harry's eyes shone with possibility as he rapped his knuckles against the wood three times in quick succession. We waited for a beat and then he opened the door, allowing us to step into the large, circular room.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly as we moved into view. "You and Amber got my message, I see. Come in." He watched us ascend the few steps that led to his desk and seemed to look us both over for a moment before he spoke again. "How are you?"

"Fine, sir," Harry replied.

"And you, Amber?"

"Very well, thank you, Professor," I said softly, giving him a small smile by way of greeting.

"Good." He sounded genuinely pleased by the news. "Enjoying your classes?" he asked and we both nodded. "I know Professor Slughorn is most impressed with you," he said to Harry, who smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"I think he overestimates my abilities, sir," Harry replied modestly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Do you?"

Harry gave a short laugh. "Definitely."

Dumbledore chuckled and the sound was warm and comforting. "You and Amber share quite a few classes, do you not?"

I put my hand on Harry's shoulder. "You should see him in Potions, professor. He's an absolute genius."

"How do you fare, Miss Dawson?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Not quite as well. Not the worst, but certainly not the best. I seem to do better in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Ah," he sighed. "Very good news indeed. Remus was able to see you over the holidays?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for doing that for me, by the way."

"Not at all." He waved his right hand and I tried to hide my shock when I realized that several of his fingers were black and shriveled looking, almost as if the skin would flake off in a gentle breeze. He didn't seem to notice my staring and continued on with the conversation, turning his focus back to Harry. "And what about your activities outside the classroom?" he asked, a curious glint in his pale eyes.

"… Sir?" Harry sounded confused.

"Well, I notice you spend a great deal of time with Miss Granger. I can't help wondering if…"

He caught on to the Headmasters words and his eyes widened. "Oh, no, no! I mean, she's brilliant… and we're friends… but, no," he stammered, smiling awkwardly. I looked down at my feet to hide my own grin.

"Forgive me," Dumbledore apologized gently. "I was merely being curious." Harry nodded in understanding and the atmosphere seemed to shift. "But enough chit-chat; you must be wondering why I summoned you both here tonight." I watched as he rose from his chair and walked around the desk, descending the stairs as he led us to a large, cylindrical cabinet near one of the curving walls. It was gold and glowing, with small glass panes that allowed us to see inside where hundreds of tiny vials rested in rows. "The answer lies here," he said, gazing at the vials. Harry and I stood a few paces behind him. "What you are looking at are memories," he continued, as if sensing our confusion. "In this case pertaining to one individual: Voldemort; or as he was known then: Tom Riddle."

I blinked my eyes wide, not expecting such information. A lower row of vials began to turn before Dumbledore reached through a gap in the glass to retrieve one. "This vial contains the most particular memory of the day I first met him." He held the vial out for us to see and I couldn't help staring at the thin, luminescent strands that swirled within, tinted gold in the low light. "I'd like you to see it, if you would."

Harry reached out with a tentative hand, carefully taking the vial from Dumbledore before making his way to another table that housed a flat, gold plated bowl. I recognized the item as Dumbledore's Pensieve.

The Headmaster turned to me as Hurry uncorked the vial and waited for us to join him. "Do you think you can manage watching through Harry?" he asked me. I stared at him, wondering if he knew of my struggles that first night here. "I wouldn't ask this of you if I knew you couldn't handle it."

I smiled reassuringly. "I'll be fine." I looked past him to Harry. "I'm ready when you are," I told him.

Dumbledore nodded at him and flicked a hand upward, dimming the lights overhead until we were left in partial darkness. Harry tipped the contents of the vial into the shimmering water and I exhaled, letting my vision glaze over with the bright cerulean hue. The angle of my sight shifted as I watched through Harry's eyes and I felt the hard surface of a stone pillar against my back as Dumbledore gently eased me against it, so that I would not lose my balance while I watched. A moment later Harry eased his face into the Pensieve and the world around us disappeared.

-x-

_A man in a sleek plum coloured suit and cloak walked swiftly down a lonely street, protected from the constant rain by the black umbrella he held above his head. As he walked, other figures began to materialize around him – what I figured was the memory continuing to take shape. The building he strode towards loomed before him in an instant and I was able to read the sign as he passed under it: Wool's Orphanage. _

"_I must admit to some confusion upon receiving your letter, Mr. Dumbledore," said a soft yet slightly strained female voice, and suddenly the scene changed and Dumbledore was walking up a flight of stairs inside the orphanage, an older looking woman guiding him. "In all the years Tom's been here he's never once had a family visitor." It changed again and they were standing at the start of a long, dark tiled hallway. "There have been incidents with the other children. Nasty things." A knock on one of the doors and a rush of cloud-covered sunlight as it opened. "Tom," the woman called, sounding almost scared. "You have a visitor."_

_Dumbledore – who looked quite a few years younger here than he did now – kept his expression calm and neutral as he stepped past the woman and into the room. "How do you do, Tom?" he asked, but the boy didn't answer. He was a handsome child; tall, pale and dark haired. _

"_Don't," said a raspy, young voice as Dumbledore reached to open the wardrobe by the door, perhaps to hang his coat. Three images were rapidly shown: a diary or book, seven stones on the windowsill and a photograph of a rock face looming before a vicious sea, a large protrusion of stone rising out from the depths._

"_You're the doctor, aren't you?" the boy asked, now sitting in a chair and looking accusingly at Dumbledore, who sat patiently on the bed. _

"_No," Dumbledore replied. "I am a professor."_

"_I don't believe you," he shot back in his raspy, flat voice. He sounded tired. "She wants me looked at. They think I'm… different."_

_Dumbledore took the chance his words offered. "Well, perhaps they're right."_

"_I'm not mad," the boy insisted._

"_Hogwarts is not a place for mad people. Hogwarts is a school; a school of magic."_

_Tom's brows drew together for a moment before his expression smoothed again. Dumbledore's words had obviously intrigued him._

"_You can do things, can't you, Tom? Things other children can't."_

"_I can make things move without touching them," Tom began. "I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me; I can make them hurt, if I want." He paused and his tone was sharp again. "Who are you?"_

"_Well, I'm like you, Tom," Dumbledore said gently. He looked around a bit – as if to check for eavesdroppers – and spoke as though he was sharing something very special. "I'm different."_

"_Prove it," Tom hissed._

_A moment later the wardrobe which Tom had deemed restricted caught on fire, roaring and hot. Tom's eyes burned like the flames and a tiny smile touched his lips. A rattling could be heard from behind the door. "I think there's something in your wardrobe trying to get out, Tom," Dumbledore said simply._

_Tom rose to his feet, crossed the room and opened the door, the fire moving away to allow him passage. He gazed down at a small ornate box unharmed by the flames and retrieved it, turning back to Dumbledore who now stood, watching him. The door swung shut and the fire ceased. Tom removed the small items from the box – a silver thimble, a yo-yo and a tarnished mouth organ._

"_Thievery is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Tom," Dumbledore warned him. "At Hogwarts you will be taught not only how to use magic, but how to control it. You understand me?"_

_Tom didn't answer, merely continued to stare, his jaw working in what seemed to be mild annoyance. Dumbledore, having said his piece, made his way to the door and was just free of the arch when Tom's raspy voice rang out again._

"_I can speak to snakes, too," he said and Dumbledore stopped. "They find me. Whisper things. Is that… normal for someone like me?"_

_Dumbledore slowly turned to look back at him, that small boy standing alone in the middle of the room, and the scene around him turned misty and intangible before ending._

-x-

I released my hold on Harry's sight the moment he removed his head from the Pensieve and sank back against the pillar, my breaths coming into shaky lungs. Harry seemed to be catching his breath as well, though neither of us had exerted ourselves in any way. It was merely a way to cope with what we had just seen.

"Did you know, sir?" Harry asked, his voice low and heavy. "Then?"

"Did I know I'd just met the most dangerous dark wizard of all time? No." Dumbledore looked down at the Pensieve. "If I had, I…" he trailed off for a few short seconds before catching himself. "Over time, while here at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle grew close to one particular teacher. Can you guess who that teacher might be?"

There was a beat of silence. "You didn't bring Professor Slughorn back simply to teach Potions, did you, sir?"

"No, I did not." I remained silent, gathering that this had to do with their excursion before the school year began and did not entirely involve me. "You see, Professor Slughorn possesses something I desire very dearly, but he will not give it up easily."

"You said Professor Slughorn would try to collect me," Harry said, sounding as though he was slowly putting the pieces together; pieces of a puzzle I had not yet seen.

"I did."

"Do you want me to let him?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said in a very soft voice.

Harry nodded in understanding, and not much else was said before he was sent back to the common room. I went to follow him, but Dumbledore requested that I remain behind, if only for a moment.

"You seem troubled, Amber," he observed, walking past his desk to where Fawkes rested upon his perch. My body visibly relaxed at the sight of the bird, the race of creatures I was so intimately connected to. I had not seen the Phoenix my legend was borne of, and Fawkes seemed to fill that empty space in my heart.

"I'm sorry, professor," I said, gently reaching up to stroke the birds belly. He watched me with soulful dark eyes.

"Whatever makes you think you need to apologize?"

I shook my head, unsure. "I just… I don't quite see where I fit into the equation here. This seems like a task Harry is perfectly capable of acting out on his own. What use could I be to him here?"

"If I am not mistaken, before he passed away, Sirius asked you to watch over Harry should anything happen to him, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir," I confirmed. "He asked it of me when I was at Grimmauld Place for Christmas."

"That is what I ask of you now, almost as an extension of such a request. Harry has his other friends, of course, and the teachers here to guide him, but you are the only one who knows him more intimately than the rest of us. You can see into his mind, which puts you at great risk of dark forces –" I opened my mouth to speak but he held his hand up for patient silence. "I know that such a thing does not bother you if it means he remains safe. That is why I trust you with his life. Your gifts can protect him, Amber. You can be not only the physical, but emotional support that he needs. I ask that you continue acting as his guardian, even if that just means keeping a watchful eye over him as he continues his life here at Hogwarts."

"There's a reason why you're doing all this," I said softly, smiling a little as Fawkes lowered his head to nip at my fingers. "I would have continued to protect him even if you hadn't asked me, but I don't understand why I'm involved in this whole thing to do with Voldemort's past."

Dumbledore's face was smooth. I wondered if he had tried to deflect my earlier question with requests for Harry's safety – which was already paramount to me. "These are things you will need to know. There is much ahead of Harry, and I need not only him, but you, to be ready for it."

That still wasn't quite the answer I had been looking for, but it was an answer nonetheless. I decided I would not press for further details until he was ready to share them. "Thank you," I said, and as I relinquished my hold on such thoughts I noticed for the first time a strange, pulsing energy coming from his desk. "Professor, what is that?"

"What is what?"

"That… power," I whispered. It felt familiar somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, concerned.

"No," I breathed. "It's… good. Light and strong. I don't understand." I could feel a hint of pain in my abdomen and knew that there were things of a dark nature in here; Dumbledore had all manner of things in this expansive room, why shouldn't I be surprised that not all of them were pure and good? I was reminded again of his charred hand and couldn't help but question whether the darkness was to blame.

Dumbledore smiled, surprisingly enough, and stared at my hand, still nestled amongst Fawkes's soft feathers. "If it does not pain you, then it is nothing for you to worry about just yet. Now, it is getting late and you have quite a bit of homework to do, I believe." I was unable to hold back a groan, and he chuckled. "As I thought. Off to bed with you, young one."

I did as he wished, catching up with Harry on the moving staircases. We quietly discussed what we had seen as we made our way to the Fat Lady's portrait. Even as we joined our friends and conversation topics changed to lighter things, I couldn't keep that thrumming pulse of familiar magic and the pale boy's face from my mind.

* * *

**Mini Tom is so creepy D:**

**I wonder what Dumbledore has hidden in his office? I love all these little sub-plots I have going on; Amber probably hates me for it, but I don't care. She has to do what I tell her. Also, props to Britt for brainstorming with me on how to approach it - gah! I can't explain even a little without giving it away.**

**I had so much fun with the memory scene and the Potions lesson. I got the feeling Amber had absolutely no idea what she was doing. I'm pretty sure that'd be me if I went to Hogwarts. I'd just throw everything in the cauldron and hope for the best.**

**Anyway, I'll be back again next week. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.**

**As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts - and your theories on what Dumbledore's keeping hidden from Amber :)**

**Until next time!**

**xx**


	6. Cold

**Another long one. Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Six  
Cold**

Quidditch tryouts were held the following Saturday. As he was one of the last team members still at school, Harry had been appointed Captain of the Gryffindor team – not that any of us were surprised.

The weather wasn't ideal, but nor was it terribly unfortunate; there was a heavy blanket of clouds over our heads and mist clung to the mountains, drifting gently as the chilly breeze coaxed it along. I stood beside Harry and Ginny in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, a broomstick clutched in my right hand. Harry had asked if I could assist him with tryouts this year and I had been more than happy to oblige. I was to be an extra obstacle, the unexpected troublemaker that came about in most matches.

Quite a few people had shown up to try for the new team, including Ron, who was going for Keeper. He was the only one who seemed to be paying attention at the moment, the others gathered in a group behind him, wrestling and whacking each other with their broomsticks around the piles of protective gear. Ginny and I shared a look; she, like everyone else, was dressed in Gryffindor robes. She was vying for a place as a Chaser, which she was likely to land by the end of the day. The girl was absolutely incredible in the air.

"Alright, um," Harry hesitated a moment and I turned my head to look at him. He seemed a little anxious, this being his first year coaching a team of rowdy Quidditch players. It wouldn't be long before he found his way and led them to victory; Harry was born to lead and everyone knew it. He spoke again, his voice stronger than before. "Okay, so, this morning I'm going to be putting you through a few drills just to assess your strengths." He shifted on his feet, realizing that no one was listening to him. My fingers tightened around the broomstick. I wanted to yell for order, but it was not my place to scold them. "Quiet, please!" he called timidly.

Ginny, apparently having shared my frustrations raised her voice above the cacophony of noise. _"Shut it!"_ she yelled, her voice like the vicious crack of a law enforcing whip. The silence was almost immediate.

Harry blinked in surprise and turned his head towards her. "Thanks."

I smirked and jabbed Ginny's arm with the end of my broom, snickering when she shoved it away. Brilliant girl.

"Alright," Harry began again and I straightened up, lest he look around and catch me being a moron. "Um, now then, remember, just because you made the team last year does not guarantee you a spot this year, is that clear?" There were a few soft mumbles, but otherwise, no distinct reply. "Good," Harry deadpanned. It wasn't hard to tell that he was feeling rather out of his element.

It wasn't long after that he left them to their own devices, the two of us mounting our brooms and kicking off to do a few laps around the pitch. We passed the stands, waving at Hermione as she spotted us. Quite a few people had come to watch, including Luna and Lavender, the latter hardly noticing us. She was staring at Ron again.

"Well, this is going swimmingly so far," I teased as we cruised around the hoops.

Harry groaned. "I don't know how Wood was able to do this for so long. There's just… so much to _do."_

I smiled and swerved under him, watching the students bustle about below us. "You'll be fine. It's only your first day, stop being so hard on yourself."

"Thanks for helping out, by the way."

"No problem. Don't thank me yet, though. I could be rubbish."

"Nonsense. I still think you should tryout today."

"No thanks. I've got enough on my plate. Besides, this is your thing, not mine."

We were silent for a little while, leisurely moving around each other and watching the clouds roll over us. I was genuinely glad to help out today; it was something warm and familiar, which helped to take my mind off of other, more troubling things. Hannah Abbott had been taken out of Herbology yesterday to receive the news that her mother had been found dead. We hadn't seen her since. I felt my stomach twist at the memory; Hannah was a sweet girl who didn't deserve such heartache.

"So," I said after another minute of peaceful quiet, my voice slightly strained. "Is it just Ron going for Keeper this year?" I could see him down on the grass, talking to a tall, wiry-haired boy and narrowed my eyes.

"I'm afraid not." Harry followed my line of sight and sighed. "That's Cormac McLaggen; he's trying out as well."

"Hmm. Want me to give him a hard time?"

Harry laughed. "We'll see."

And see we did. There were a few hiccups to start off with, but eventually the players settled into a comfortable rhythm and Harry was able to pick the good from the bad. It took at least two hours – and a few tantrums – but Harry soon had three chasers: Katie Bell, Demelza Robins and Ginny. The new Beaters, Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote, were good but nowhere near Fred and George's preset standards. It was strange seeing their usual roles filled by someone else.

I was having a marvelous time tormenting people – in the nicest way possible. I gave Ginny quite a bit of attention and she rose to the challenge, dodging every cutoff and snatching the Quaffle back whenever I swooped in to catch it after it had been thrown. She had definitely earned her place, and I almost earned a lump on my head from a runaway Bludger. Thankfully Jimmy knocked it away before it could make impact; there was a chance that had gone towards him getting chosen for the team, but I wasn't about to be biased.

Harry deliberately saved the Keeper trials for last, hoping that the extra time would help calm Ron's nerves. I swooped up to wait beside him as they took their places on either side of the pitch, throwing Ginny the Quaffle as she sped along below us. "Do you think he's okay?"

Harry looked unsure, but we both had faith in our friend, to make up for how much he lacked such feelings toward himself. "I hope so. If he concentrates he should be fine."

I gripped my broomstick with both hands, letting my legs dangle in the air. I was not to interfere for this round, which gave me the chance to sit back and watch from a bird's eye view. I had to admit that Cormac was good; he blocked the Quaffle every time it came at him, although I wasn't fond of his egotistical pride and sense of self worth, which he seemed to hold in rather high regard. He also had a tendency to correct you in whatever you were doing, and make you do it his way. He tried such a thing with me during the Beater trails, but I had strictly informed him that I was operating under Harry's orders today, and he had no power over me. Bloody git.

Ron, on the other hand, was doing very well. His technique wasn't as sharp as Cormac's, but he was blocking any and all goals, and that's what mattered. There was, however, a heartstopping moment when he lost his grip and slid off the seat of his broom, hanging from the end that he clung to for dear life. Harry and I had encouraged him in low voices, hoping against hope that he would pull through and emerge victorious. He eventually got back on his broom and we were able to carry on.

The one who would be chosen for the Keeper position had to save five out of five penalty shots. Cormac and Ron had both saved four apiece, and were now coming into the fifth and final save. I couldn't ignore the butterflies in my stomach as Ginny raced toward McLaggen, the Quaffle tucked firmly under her arm. To everyone's surprise, the moment she threw it Cormac shot violently to the left with a dazed expression on his face, barely noticing the Quaffle flying through the hoop.

His fate on the team decided, all eyes turned to Ron as his sister made her way toward him and threw the Quaffle. Ron, the picture of elegance, rolled his broom and stuck his head out, the Quaffle making a rather amusing sound as it bounced off the gear protecting his skull. An interesting save, but a save nonetheless. Ron was the new Gryffindor Keeper.

Cormac didn't take the news very well, giving Harry quite a bit of temper before storming off with a red face. I watched him go with a barely concealed smile and walked over to where Harry was methodically removing his gear; I pulled the zip of my jacket down, letting the cool air soothe my overly warm skin. "He looked grumpy," I said when he was close enough to hear me.

He looked up and rolled his eyes. "He _was _grumpy. I don't think he appreciates being overlooked."

"Please. Ron saved more goals than him; you should have told him his pride was showing." Harry snorted and I was unable to hold back my own laughter. As we carted the gear back to the supply room – after Harry took a moment to congratulate and welcome his new team – I was reminded of something I had seen earlier. "Hey, did you notice Cormac's last goal?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He completely missed it, and he was in just the right place to make another save."

"You don't think that…" I trailed off, suspicious thoughts clouding my mind.

"What, that he was Confunded or something?" Harry supplied.

I shrugged. "It's possible. Against the rules, but possible."

We let it go, but the moment we saw Hermione's knowing smile, we were able to put two and two together. We agreed not to say anything; it would be our little secret.

x-x-x

"I have to admit, I thought I was gonna miss that last one. I hope Cormac's not taking it too hard."

I smiled at the fireplace, watching the orange flames flicker and dance over the firewood inside. Ron had been going on about the Quidditch tryouts for what felt like hours, subtly hinting for praise when we went too long without congratulating him for the millionth time. I couldn't find it in myself to be annoyed with him, though. He was so happy, and I preferred to keep him that way. Besides, he earned his place; he had every right to celebrate.

"He's got a bit of a thing for you, Hermione. Cormac," Ron went on, looking to Hermione who sat on the floor with her back to the right arm of the couch, Harry over on the left and me stretched out on the rug between them.

Hermione lowered her copy of the _Daily Prophet _for a moment, shook her head and lifted it up again. "He's vile," she replied.

"He's also not a very good Keeper," I said, adding fuel to Ron's giddy fire. Hermione shoved my hip with her toes. "Ouch," I laughed.

Harry, who I doubt had been paying an ounce of attention for the last however many minutes, leaned over me to stick his copy of _Advanced Potion Making _under Hermione's nose. "Have you ever heard of this spell: Sectumsempra?"

"No, I haven't," she said, sounding put out by his request. "And if you had a shred of self-respect you'd hand that book in!"

"Not bloody likely," Ron said as Harry went back to his book. He had shown it to me a few days ago; it was full of scribbled notes and spells. Some of the recipes had even been altered. "He's top of the class. He's even better than you, Hermione. Slughorn thinks he's a genius."

Hermione dropped the paper into her lap and turned to glare at Ron. She hated being second best, especially when Harry had never excelled in Potions like this.

"What?" he muttered, shrinking back from her cold eyes.

She turned her gaze to Harry and I managed to shift out of the way a moment before she lunged for the book in his hands. "I'd like to know whose that book was." Harry looked up as she came at him. "Let's have a look shall we?" She held her hand out for the book but Harry lurched to his feet, snapping it closed and holding it protectively to his chest.

"No," he said simply, backing away from her.

She rose to her feet to follow him. "Why not?"

"The binding is fragile."

"_The binding is fragile?"_

"Yeah."

Unbeknownst to Harry, as he backed his way around the room – I had propped myself up on my elbows to watch the scene play out – he came a bit too close to Ginny, who snatched the book from his hand before he could move it away. She opened it to the back page and looked up, eyes sparkling. "Who's the Half-Blood Prince?"

"Who?" Hermione asked, following behind Harry as he rushed after the young Weasley girl.

"That's what it says right here," Ginny replied. "This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince."

They both looked to Harry for an explanation but he said nothing, simply stared at the book until Ginny threw it back to him. He was gone in an instant, flipping the book open to where he left off. I smiled and lowered myself back down to watch the flames, taking a walnut from the bowl Ron offered me.

x-x-x

Hermione refused to let her suspicions of Harry's Potions book go. Whenever he took it out around her, she would curl her lip or make a sharp comment about his using it to 'cheat' in class. It wasn't long before she would begin disappearing during free periods, or show up late to dinner. It didn't take a genius to figure out where she was going. She eventually revealed her whereabouts to us as we were walking to Hogsmead one afternoon, bundled up with our faces protected from the constantly falling snow.

"For weeks you carry around this book," Hermione said, trudging along. "You practically sleep with it, and yet you have no desire to find out who the Half-Blood Prince is."

"I didn't say I wasn't curious," Harry argued, holding tight to my hand as I walked along the low stone wall that marked the path. I had told him that I could balance just fine, but he insisted just in case I slipped. His protectiveness reminded me of Cedric, and I couldn't help but smile. "And I don't sleep with it!" he insisted, his fingers tightening around mine at the accusation.

"Well, it's true!" Ron said. "I like a nice chat before I go to bed; now all you do is read that bloody book. It's like being with Hermione."

Hermione whipped her head around to stare at him before she caught herself and carried on. I wobbled a bit on the wall and Harry tugged on my arm, almost pulling me off. If he wasn't holding my hand I may well have hit him. "Well, I _was_ curious," she said. "So I went to-"

"The library," Ron, Harry and I said in unison. Really, this hardly came as a surprise.

"And?" Harry encouraged as Ron and I grinned at each other.

"And nothing," she replied, disappointed. "I couldn't find a reference anywhere to a Half-Blood Prince." She said the words with contempt, as though the lack of information gave her the right to hate this unknown person.

"There we go," Harry said. "That settles it then." He paused to help me down from the wall as it widened out and split off into several other different paths. "Had your fun?" he asked.

I shrugged. "We could always walk back," I said and leaned back to look at Hermione. "There was really nothing? At all?"

She sniffed. "Absolutely nothing."

"_Filius! I was hoping to find you in The Three Broomsticks."_

I looked up at the new voice, spotting Professor Slughorn up ahead through the falling snow. Professor Flitwick was waddling past him, coat pulled tight around his little body.

"Uh, no," Flitwick replied somewhat awkwardly. "Emergency choir practice I'm afraid, Horace." He laughed a little, cleared his throat and continued walking.

Harry's fingers twitched, still clutched around mine. "Does anyone fancy a Butterbeer?"

The Three Broomsticks was blissfully warm and I heard Ron demand we stay all afternoon as he came in after me. I pulled my hair from the neckline of my jacket and fluffed the snow from it as we walked to an empty table. Harry's eyes remained on the bar where Slughorn sat, regaling the barman with tales from his youth.

"No, not there," he said as Ron went for a table by the door. "Over here. _No, sit beside me_," he hissed. I raised my eyebrows, pulling a chair out and placing it at the end of the table on Harry's instruction, so that the space opposite him was free. I realized that Slughorn would be able to see Harry clear as day now, were he to turn around.

"Okay," Ron murmured, not having caught up quite yet.

"Something to drink?" asked a waiter, having stepped up to our table without us noticing.

"Four Butterbeers and some ginger in mine, please," Hermione said, politely placing our order.

I removed my jacket and slung it over the back of the chair before sitting down and waiting for the others. I noticed Harry's eyes stray from the bar and follow someone across the room, but when I looked for the source of his attention, they were gone. Whoever it was. "Harry, what's wrong?"

He blinked and looked down at me. "Nothing, nothing," he said and sat down.

We had been sitting for barely a minute before Ron began shifting in his seat. "Aw, bloody hell," he cursed angrily.

I looked over my shoulder – for the source of his distress seemed to be in that direction – and spotted Dean and Ginny at a table in the far corner. They were cuddled up close and talking in hushed voices, both wearing shy smiles. I couldn't help but smile myself at their innocence.

"Slick git," Ron spat under his breath.

"Honestly, Ronald, they're only holding hands," Hermione said. We looked over again, only to see them locked at the lips, and rather passionately I might add. Hermione whirled around in her seat. "And snogging," she added in alarm.

Well, perhaps they _weren't _as innocent as I thought.

"I'd like to leave," Ron said, making a move to get out of his chair just as our drinks arrived.

"What?" Hermione said, laughing a little at his words. "You can't be serious."

"That happens to be my sister," Ron snapped. I looked away from him for a moment to thank the waiter as he handed me my drink.

"So?" Hermione shot back. "What if she looked over here and saw you snogging me, would you expect her to get up and leave?"

I giggled into my glass as Ron's face went blank in surprise before morphing into an expression of utmost confusion.

"Harry, my boy!"

I jumped at the booming voice and Harry shot from his seat to shake Slughorn's hand as he approached our table. "Hello, sir," he greeted eagerly. "Wonderful to see you."

"And you, and you," Slughorn gushed. I wondered if he was a little on the tipsy side.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Oh, The Three Broomsticks and I go way back, further than I care to admit." He laughed a little, his eyes slightly glassy. "I could remember when it was One Broomstick!" He tilted his arm back a little too far and spilt half his drink onto the table. Hermione jumped as it splashed onto her legs. "All hands on deck, Granger," he said.

I took a sip of my drink to mask my growing smile.

"Listen, my boy," Slughorn continued and Harry snapped to attention. "In the old days I used to throw together the occasional supper party, for the select student or two. Would you be game?"

"I'd consider it an honour, sir."

Slughorn smiled and looked down at Hermione and me in turn. "You'd be welcome, too, Granger."

Hermione quickly swallowed her mouthful of Butterbeer. "I'd be delighted, sir," she croaked.

"And you, Miss Dawson?"

I smiled. "Sounds wonderful, Professor."

"Splendid!" he cried happily. "Look for my owl!" He turned and caught sight of Ron for the first time since he came over to see us. His expression turned serious. "Good to see you, Wallenby."

Ron looked a little wounded as Harry sat back down, the two of us sharing a hopeful glance. "What are you playing at?" he asked sharply.

Harry's smile fell. "Dumbledore's asked me to get to know him," he answered in a low voice.

"Get to know him?" Ron sounded incredulous.

"I don't know," Harry said in understanding. "It must be important. If it wasn't Dumbledore, I wouldn't ask. Amber's in on it, too," he added.

"Lookout?" Ron asked me.

I nodded. "As always." I gave him a weak salute and went back to my drink, but not before Hermione lowered her glass and I noticed a layer of creamy foam on her upper lip. Ron's eyebrows rose and Harry looked away, awkwardly scratching the side of his mouth.

"You've got… a little bit…" Ron muttered, gesturing to his lip.

Hermione's eyes widened and she turned away, hastily scrubbing the evidence from her skin. I smiled sympathetically at the embarrassment on her face.

We stayed at the Three Broomsticks for a while longer, Hermione ordering a few more Butterbeers after her incident with the first one and by the time we left she was staggering along beside us, giddy as anything, her smile blissfully happy.

"Looks like those Butterbeers are working their magic," I laughed.

"_Katie, you don't know what it could be."_

"_Don't worry, Leanne. I know what I'm doing."_

My head snapped up as Leanne's distressed voice reached my ears. She and Katie Bell were walking a little ways ahead of us, Leanne struggling to keep up with Katie's quick, determined strides. I felt my eyes narrow; Katie was never harsh like that.

"Harry," I said tentatively, interrupting his conversation with Ron as Hermione slung her arms over each of their shoulders. "Did you -" But my question was cut short by the sound of a horrified scream.

We all stopped in our tracks and my heart began to race when I noticed Katie lying on her back in the snow. The package she had been holding was partially open, the paper flapping in the breeze.

"I warned her!" Leanne cried, turning to face us. "I warned her not to touch it!"

My spine straightened as I let the blue haze wash over me, but before I could take even a step forward to aid them I was struck by a wave of pain. I gave a startled cry and staggered forward a few steps before dropping to my knees, the all-encompassing sting weakening my legs. I watched in disbelief, my body burning, as Katie began to thrash about in the snow, her small frame moving as though pulled by an invisible force.

I felt Harry's arms on my shoulders as he reached me, but my eyes remained on Katie. Whatever had caused this, there was no doubt in my mind that it involved Dark Magic. To my complete and utter horror, Katie rose with an almighty rush into the air, arms extended and eyes wide, her mouth open in a silent scream. There was nothing we could do except stand – or kneel, in my case – frozen in the snow, waiting for her to be relinquished by her hidden puppeteer. It felt like hours that she dangled above our heads before she gave a swift jerk and fell to the ground, her body landing with a sickening thud in the heavy snow. Her head twitched from side to side, but I couldn't rise to help her. I was paralyzed by what I had seen.

"Don't get any closer! Get back, all of you!"

Harry curled his fingers under my arms and lifted me to my feet, pulling me out of Hagrid's way as he rushed past us to get to Katie. I wasn't sure when he had arrived, but I was relieved to see him nonetheless. I watched as he plucked Katie from the snow and checked her for signs of life before turning away from us, the seventh year girl clutched to his chest for warmth. I blinked the snow out of my eyes and pressed an arm against my stomach as Harry urged me to lean against the stone wall I had balanced on earlier. My skin was prickling and burning hot, but most of the pain was gone. I could hear a faint rushing sound in my ears and everything was white, but that could very well have been the snow. I could taste copper in my mouth and realized with a start that I had bitten through my lip – when, I didn't know, but now that I had acknowledged it I could feel the ache of the split skin and winced, raising a hand to touch the wound.

"Do not touch that, except for the wrappings. Do you understand?" I heard Hagrid say firmly and looked over to see Harry, now crouched down by the package. There, lying half in the snow, was a necklace.

x-x-x

We followed Hagrid back to the school grounds where McGonagall met us at the front steps, her expression one of hard panic. Harry handed her the parcel – now wrapped in his scarf – and we followed her up to her office in the Transfiguration classroom. Ron guided me up the stairs, my arm wrapped around his neck. I was perfectly fine, but the sudden impact of Dark Magic on my body had left me a little weak. If I had been prepared for such a thing, I'm sure I would have handled it better. Alas, it was not the case.

I was seated on one of the desks when we made it to the classroom while Ron, Harry and Hermione were instructed to stand. Leanne stood off to the side, looking nervous and very, very pale. The animals who spent most of their time here watched us through the thin bars of their cages.

We all listened intently as Leanne told McGonagall what had happened; apparently Katie had gone to the bathroom and come back out holding the parcel. She had been acting strangely and insisted they go back to the school. They were on their way when Katie touched it, which is what we had witnessed.

"You're sure Katie did not have this in her possession when she entered The Three Broomsticks?" McGonagall asked, grasping for an explanation.

Leanne lifted her chin, and this time her voice was a bit stronger. "It's like I said; she went to go to the loo, and when she came back she had the package. She said it was important that she deliver it."

This was new information. "Did she say to whom?"

"To Professor Dumbledore."

McGonagall inhaled deeply. "Very well. Thank you, Leanne, you may go."

Once Leanne had left the room, the Head of Gryffindor House turned to us. "Why is it, when something happens, it is _always_ you four?"

"Believe me, Professor," Ron spoke up. "I've been asking myself the same question for six years."

If I had not been so tired, I might have smiled.

"Oh, Severus," said McGonagall. I looked back and saw Snape standing under the arch, dressed in his black robes and looking as neutral as ever.

He examined the necklace and we watched on in silence. As he lifted it from the box with the tip of his wand the animals around us began to screech and wail in protest. Even I could not keep a growl from rolling about in my throat.

"What do you think?" McGonagall asked, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

"I think Miss Bell is lucky to be alive," Snape replied. He sounded somewhat distracted, his voice distant and smooth.

"She was cursed, wasn't she?" Harry asked. "I know Katie; off the Quidditch pitch she wouldn't hurt a fly. If she was delivering that to Professor Dumbledore, she wasn't doing it knowingly."

"Yes, she was cursed," McGonagall replied.

"It was Malfoy," Harry said, with all the confidence in the world.

I looked at him with wide eyes. Was he insane? Perhaps Draco was the one he had seen at the pub, but it was lunacy to accuse him of such a thing.

Professor McGonagall seemed to share my thoughts, turning to Harry in astonishment. "That is a very serious accusation, Potter," she warned him.

"Indeed," Snape agreed. "Your evidence?"

Harry's eyes were hard. "I just know."

_Harry, you fool._

"You just know," Snape repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. "Once again you astonish with you gifts, Potter. Gifts mere mortals can only dream of possessing; how grand it must be to be the Chosen One."

There was tense silence as we absorbed his words. The rumors had been flying, of course they had, but for a teacher to use that against him, and in such a nasty way, was incredible. But then again, it was Snape, after all.

"I suggest you go back to your dormitories," McGonagall said after a moment. "All of you. Except you, Miss Dawson."

I looked up in surprise. "Professor?"

Her face was stern. "I want you to go to the hospital wing and get checked over by Madam Pomfrey before you return to your friends. I will escort you there."

"But –"

"No buts," she argued. "You have come into contact with Dark Magic and it has obviously taken its toll on you. You will be checked over and then you will go straight to bed and get some rest, am I clear?"

I sighed, watching as my friends left the room. "Yes, Professor."

I let her lead me to the hospital wing, finding myself grateful for the suggestion as my legs were weak and shaky. It seemed my lack of training since the start of the year wasn't doing me any good. Hermione rushed to meet me the moment I made it back to the common room – also escorted by McGonagall. She checked me over almost as thoroughly as Madam Pomfrey and quickly ushered the boys off the couch so I could lie down.

"Hermione," I laughed. "Really, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

Harry took my hand. "Was she mad at you?"

I shook my head. "No, rather concerned actually. I can't blame her for wanting me looked over; after all, if I'm stuck in the hospital wing, who would look after you?"

He smiled and I felt the weight of the afternoon lift from my shoulders.

* * *

**Not gonna lie, I would kill for a Butterbeer right now. It's freaking freezing here.**

**That scene with Katie and the necklace was such a pain to write. I probably went back to rewrite it about three or four times. And as you can see, Amber still has a hard time with Dark Magic. She's better at handling it, certainly, but she's not completely invulnerable. I don't think she'll ever be. It comes with the territory of her being.**

**I would have updated yesterday, but I got completely distracted by Pottermore :P I'm OakElm24 if any of you guys are on it. **

**Hopefully I'll be back with another chapter in a few days.**

**In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**

**Until then,**

**xx**


	7. Burning From Within

**If there's one good thing about shorter chapters, it's that they take half the usual time to pre-read. I'd call that a win.**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven  
Burning From Within**

We received word the following day that Katie had been moved to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, with no firm estimation of when she would return. It calmed my nerves knowing that she would be looked after, but St Mungo's wasn't the most pleasant place to be, so I hoped for a speedy recovery and return for the gentle girl. The incident, however, only served to further cement Harry's theory of Malfoy's new Death Eater status.

"Harry, you're being ridiculous," Hermione scolded him one afternoon as we sat huddled around the fire, finishing up some last minute homework during a joint free period. "If Draco was a Death Eater, surely someone would have noticed by now."

"He's a Malfoy," Harry argued. "They know how to keep secrets."

I rubbed my forehead and pored over my parchment, quill scribbling another paragraph of an essay for Charms class. The amount of homework we were receiving this year was unbelievable; I'd had a dream a few nights ago that I'd been drowning in parchments and textbooks. It was awful.

"Why don't we let Amber have a go, then?"

I caught the tail end of Harry's sentence and my head snapped up in alarm. "Pardon?" I asked, my eyes flicking across the three faces that had turned in my direction. "Did I miss something?"

"You can look into Malfoy's mind and see what he's up to," Harry said excitedly. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before."

"It's a good idea, Hermione," Ron agreed in a lazy voice, drawing mindless pictures in the margin of his parchment. "If anyone can figure it out, it's Amber."

"That hardly seems fair." Hermione's eyes were hard and she reached out to put a hand on my knee. "At least let her choose whether or not she wants to try it. It's a very intrusive test, Harry."

Harry waved a dismissive hand and turned back to me. "Would you be willing to try, Amber?" he asked, his bright eyes hopeful and slightly pleading. I was the only chance he had to prove his theory right now, and I had the necessary tools to do some digging. Why not put them to some form of use? I certainly hadn't been doing much else lately.

It was a bit strange for me, not needing to do guard patrols anymore. Such a thing had become routine over the last few years, but now that we had Aurors prowling the grounds, there was no need for my gifts. That, and Dumbledore wanted me to remain close to Harry. I felt like I wasn't being much use to anyone at this point; guardian or not.

I lifted my chin and gave Hermione's hand a reassuring pat. "Sure, I'll have a go." I had never looked through Draco's eyes before, so finding him was bound to take a little time. "Give me a minute," I said and closed my eyes.

My body hummed with pent up adrenaline as I stretched my gifts out and away, searching the grounds for my intended target. I could feel familiar students like a prick of warmth in the back of my mind, particularly people whose minds I had seen before. I could even feel Buckbeak's mind, like a soothing balm at the back of my throat; he had returned to Hagrid's care over the holidays, under the new alias of Witherwings. I had been to visit him a few times and was overjoyed to find that he remembered me.

"Anything?" Harry's voice was weak and small, as though I was hearing it from far away.

My eyebrows drew together in concentration. "Not yet," I managed through tight lips. I inhaled deeply and reached out further. It had been a while since I had looked into a new mind, not to mention that I was searching through a castle filled with hundreds of other people. However, I eventually managed to locate him and my shoulders relaxed from their tight bunch. "Got him," I sighed. I heard Harry make a pleased sound and smiled before I focused on Malfoy's unique essence in my mind. I tried to grip onto his sight and soon felt the familiar twinge of focus in my core before opening my eyes to his world.

The moment I did so, however, I was overwhelmed by a burning rush that seeped through my skin and into my veins like molten lava. I shrieked in agony and pressed the palms of my hands over my eyes, grateful that the common room was empty apart from us. I heard three different voices through the scorching flames but I held firm to his sight; yet when I opened my eyes again I was staring at the blue tinted fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. I could still feel Malfoy's mind, gripped within my own and focused on it again, gritting my teeth against the burn. Images flickered weakly in my mind's eye; a hall, Draco's pale face reflected in a mirror, his polished shoes moving over the stone floor as he wandered about. Nothing of consequence, but what troubled me was the images were blurry and constantly flickering. I was lucky to make sense of anything at all with how weak his sight was.

"Amber? _Amber!"_

With a gasp I let go of his sight and slumped forward, dropping my head into my hands. I could feel moisture on my skin and pulled my hands away to investigate; I was crying. The burn was gone, but I could feel its presence still, creeping down my spine and making my body tremble.

"Harry, you idiot," Hermione hissed. "Amber, are you okay?"

I swallowed heavily and lifted my head to look at her. Her face was blurred and for a moment I feared the pain had damaged my sight, but then I blinked and she was clear - two tears rolled down my cheeks. "I-I think so," I whispered. "I don't know what happened."

"What did you see?" Harry asked, concerned and yet still eager for information.

"Nothing, really. I couldn't hold it for long; the moment I looked it started hurting."

His eyes lit up. "You see?" he said excitedly, looking to Ron and Hermione. "Looking into his mind hurt her; that's proof that he's using Dark Magic! _Malfoy has got to be a Death Eater._"

"That's enough, Harry!" Hermione snapped. "Your foolish ideas are hurting her, and you're acting like you don't even care. _Enough._"

I bristled a little at her harsh tone. "Hermione," I croaked.

Harry blinked and turned to me with wide eyes. "Oh God, I didn't mean… I'm sorry. Are… are you okay?"

I smiled weakly and took his hand. "I'm fine. It's nothing I haven't been through before." He relaxed at my words and pulled me close, resting my head on his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. As comforting as Harry's embrace was, I yearned for Cedric's arms around me, his low voice in my ear. I was confused by my reaction to Draco's mind. Yes, it hurt and honestly it made me wonder if he was involved with Dark Magic, but at the same time I wondered if it was me. This wasn't the first time something had gone wrong with my sight.

I pushed the thoughts away as Ron went back to his essay, asking Hermione for help a few minutes later. The sound of her stern teasing was enough to distract me from my own troubled mind.

x-x-x

It wasn't long before we received an owl from Professor Slughorn requesting our presence in his office for supper. Ron remained behind, grumbling something along the lines of "stupid bloody Slug Club," as we left through the portrait hole.

In all honesty, it wasn't that bad. Slughorn asked us all about our parents and what they did, reminding us of the talents of certain students' ancestors. I particularly enjoyed Hermione's story of the bite wound her father received during his job as a dentist; the tale received confused looks from most of the other students who weren't quite as knowledgeable about the muggle world. I was asked about my gifts – the main reason why I had been asked to join the group – and I gave him the basic gist, leaving out the deeper, more important details. They weren't things I was interested in having the Slytherin's hear, particularly Draco's friend, Blaise Zabini.

Ginny arrived late and Hermione pointed out the red rims around her eyes. Apparently she and Dean had been fighting quite a bit over the last few weeks. I fought to hold back my surprised laughter when Harry shot out of his seat at the news, sitting down awkwardly after Ginny took her place at the table.

All in all, the evening was rather uneventful. But when it came time to leave, Harry wanted to remain behind. "Harry," I said as the other students began to file from the room. "You know I can't leave you here on your own."

"I know," he replied hastily. "I wasn't asking you to leave. Just… wait outside, okay? I figured now might be a good time to try and…" he trailed off awkwardly, glancing toward the open door.

I nodded in understanding. Dumbledore had requested he get to know the Potions Master, and he was going to try and heed his request. We weren't sure when such an opportunity would come around again. "Fine, but I'm watching," I told him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze before I turned and made my way out the door. "Thank you for dinner, Professor," I said as I passed the older male.

He beamed. "Thank you for joining us, Miss Dawson. I hope to see you again next time."

"Absolutely," I replied with a smile, giving him a small wave as he closed the door. The moment I was alone I leaned back against the wall and linked myself to Harry, his sight overtaking mine and transporting me back into the classroom I had just departed.

_Harry stood, somewhat awkwardly, in the middle of Slughorn's office. I followed his gaze as it swept around the room before he focused on a peculiar looking hourglass perched upon a nearby table. It was all green and gold with glowing sand that swirled in an alluring spiral between the curved tubes. I felt his mind settle as he watched the sand spin and dance beneath the clear glass._

"_Potter!"_

_His head whipped away from the table at the sound of Slughorn's startled exclamation. Obviously he had thought Harry was already gone. "I'm sorry, sir," Harry said in a rush. "I was just admiring your hourglass."_

_Slughorn's expression smoothed out and he wandered over to stand by Harry's side, all hints of suspicion gone without a trace. "Ah yes, a most intriguing object; the sand runs in accordance to the quality of the conversation. If it is stimulating the sand runs slowly, if it is not…"_

_Harry seemed to realize what the rushing sand meant and when he spoke his voice was sheepish. "I think I'll be going then."_

_Slughorn clapped him on the shoulder with a warm smile. "Nonsense! You have nothing to fear, dear boy. As for some of your classmates," he dropped his voice to a stage whisper. "Let's just say they're unlikely to make the shelf."_

_Harry's confusion was a sharp taste on the back of my tongue. "The shelf, sir?"_

_Slughorn inhaled a laugh and turned away from Harry, gesturing to a familiar shelf tucked away against the far wall, lit softly by two small lamps on either side. I quickly recognized it as the shelf I had seen in Harry's mind at The Burrow. It was covered in pictures of past students. "Anyone who aspires to be anyone hopes to end up here. But then again, you already are someone, aren't you, Harry?"_

_Harry stared silently at the shelf as Slughorn moved away to pour himself a drink, the sound of the glass filling with liquid echoing pleasantly in the large room. "Did Voldemort ever make the shelf, sir?"_

_I felt my own shock like a jolt in my stomach. To straight out ask the professor about the Dark Lord was very brave indeed. I fervently hoped it wouldn't backfire on him. Thankfully, it didn't._

_Slughorn stiffened for a moment, but didn't say a word. Harry, figuring that his silence was better than anger, tried again. "You knew him, didn't you, sir? Tom Riddle? You were his teacher."_

_The elderly man finally seemed to find his voice, for it rang out in a soft, slightly strained tenor. "Mr. Riddle had a number of teachers whilst here at Hogwarts."_

"_What was he like?" Harry asked, but Slughorn didn't answer. The ticking of a large grandfather clock seemed to count the beats of silence as they stretched on. "I'm sorry, professor," Harry continued at last. "Forgive me. He killed my parents."_

_The words hung in the air above their heads like a blade, the tip pointed and ready to strike them through with all things dark and horrible. Then suddenly the mood shifted; understanding laced with the sharpness of something I couldn't identify. _

"_Of course," Slughorn carried on weakly, still facing away from Harry. "I-it's only natural you should want to know more. But I'm afraid I must disappoint you, Harry." He finally turned around, his eyes wide and apologetic; there was a distance to their soft irises that gave the sense that he was reliving memories long since buried. "When I first met young Mr. Riddle he was a quiet, albeit brilliant boy committed to becoming a first rate wizard." He lifted his arms a little, as though indicating that there was nothing more to tell him. He had been a good child, and none had thought to question him. "Not unlike others I've known. Not unlike yourself, in fact." The silence came again, softer this time. Eventually Slughorn broke it with gentle words. "If a monster existed, it was buried deep within."_

Sensing that the conversation had reached its end I relinquished my hold on Harry's sight and leaned my head back against the wall. That hadn't been quite as successful as we would have hoped, but at least we had a little bit of information. Slughorn obviously held Tom – at least his younger version – in high regard, so finding any darker details about the curious boy would take quite a bit of digging.

Merlin's Beard, I was exhausted.

It wasn't long before Harry emerged from the room, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He held out his hand and I took it without a word, his fingers gripping mine with gentle strength. I sometimes wondered if people found our hand holding odd, but it was perfectly natural to us. I was completely devoted to Cedric, but it wasn't hard to sense Harry's need for contact, which I was happy to provide him with. I was his safe haven, and he knew it. "How do you think it went?" he asked as we walked back down the corridor to our common room.

I gave a weak, one shouldered shrug. "It could have been better, but it also could have been much, much worse," I said soothingly. "For your first try, I think it went rather well. I highly doubt he would have revealed all his secrets during an after dinner chat, Harry."

He nodded. "Yeah, I suppose."

I knew he was tired, and perhaps frustrated with himself. This wasn't going to be easy, but if he played his cards right, we'd get the information we needed.

"So," I began after a moment or two of pleasant silence, a much needed change to the tense breaks in the earlier conversation. "Did you see the looks Cormac was giving Hermione?"

* * *

**I've never been 100 per cent happy with this chapter, but you get those from time to time.**

**Any ideas on what's causing Amber's troubles with Malfoy? I'll admit, while writing this story I had a little idea for a Draco/Amber fic. I KNOW I CAN'T HELP IT. Who knows whether or not I'll ever actually write it, but it'd be a fun little crack pairing to play with. Don't worry, Cedric and Amber will always be canon for me :) Like I'd ever separate them PSHH PSHHHH.**

**Speaking of Cedric, he may or may not be making an appearance sometime next week. You'll just have to wait and see...**

**In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts and theories. You guys come up with some crazy stuff :)**

**See you again soon!**

**xx**


	8. Broken

**Back again :) This chapter was really fun to write, if not a little angsty. **

**Let's continue on, shall we?**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
Broken**

The first Quidditch match of the season took place the following day, and it wasn't hard to tell that Ron's nerves were starting to get to him.

Harry, Hermione and I were already seated at the Gryffindor table and picking at our breakfast by the time Ron arrived, dressed in full Keeper gear. There were lots of red and green covered students bustling about around us; bets had been placed and the trash talking had started in earnest, but I barely noticed.

Bella had arrived during breakfast with a small envelope gripped in her beak and the moment I realized it was from Cedric I had buried my nose in it for the next ten minutes. There wasn't much I could tell him about my business at Hogwarts – seeing as most letters were now being checked before they were sent off – but it was good to hear from him nonetheless. We had been able to work out a simple code throughout the semester, which made it a little easier to exchange certain details. From what I could tell, Cedric and his family were still hidden and safe from any possible threats. It was short and sweet, but I could practically taste the longing in his words, the desire for us to be together again after so long apart. We weren't dealing with our separation very well, but we didn't have much of a choice. I liked to think we were getting by okay, but every part of me missed him with a severity that left me breathless.

I read the last sentence for the millionth time, trying hard to slow my racing heart.

_Be brave, sweetheart. Despite how much I crave your company, you're where you're meant to be. Don't lose faith. I'll see you again soon. I love you._

He knew of the struggles I was enduring and his words brought me the first semblance of peace I had felt in weeks. Even when he was miles away, he knew just what to say to ease my mind.

"Good news, I gather?"

I looked up at the sound of Hermione's voice and felt my cheeks flame. I had been so engrossed in my letter that I had practically ignored my friends all the way through breakfast. "I'm sorry," I said with the utmost sincerity. "It's just, this is the first I've heard from him in a while and-"

"You don't have to apologize," she replied with a laugh and reached over to touch my hand. "You needed this. I'm glad he's okay."

I smiled at her and turned my hand over to give hers a gentle squeeze. As much as I adored Harry and Ron, having a female best friend like Hermione was one of the greatest things in the world. I'd be completely lost without her.

"So how was it, then?"

My head whipped around so fast I felt a nerve in my neck pinch. I knew Ron was in the Hall, but I had completely missed him sitting down beside me. His face was alarmingly pale and as I watched he pressed the tip of his finger to the edge of the plate in front of him and nudged it away. It probably didn't help that the eggs and toast on it was shaped like the Quidditch pitch.

"How was what?" Hermione asked, looking up from the copy of _The Daily Prophet _that she had gone back to after our little exchange.

"Your dinner party?" Ron's voice was dripping with sarcasm. He didn't think very highly of our extracurricular activity.

"Pretty boring, actually," Hermione said, ignoring his tone. I noticed a hint of a smile as she spoke again. "Though I think Harry enjoyed dessert."

I kicked her foot under the table, hiding my own smile with my goblet of pumpkin juice. Ginny had shown up just in time for ice cream; rather good ice cream, too. The girl in question was currently sitting beside Harry, completely oblivious to what had just been said. I think she may have been enjoying her brother's anxiety, just a little.

"Slughorn's having a Christmas do, you know," Hermione went on. "And we're meant to bring someone."

I had almost forgotten about that. I made a mental note to tell Cedric about it in my next letter; perhaps he'd have a suggestion for who I could take.

"I expect you'll be bringing McLaggen?" Ron was in quite a mood this morning, and seemed to be taking it out on Hermione. "He's in the Slug Club, isn't he?"

"Unfortunately," I grumbled.

"Actually," Hermione shot back, ignoring my jibe. She sounded a little hurt. "I was going to ask you."

"Really?" Ron deadpanned, though his tone was a little softer.

We sat in awkward silence until we were joined by another student. Lavender Brown stood on Ron's other side, looking like the happiest person in the world simply because she was near him. "Good luck today, Ron," she said kindly before leaning down and speaking in a voice that sounded just a tad too intense. "I know you'll be brilliant."

Ron's face paled further, as though he'd forgotten he was about to play his first match against Slytherin. "I'm resigning," he said the moment she was gone. "After today's match, McLaggen can have my spot."

"Have it your way," Harry said, speaking for the first time since Ron sat down. He handed him a goblet of juice and I noticed, just as he pulled his hand back, the way the light glinted off something trapped within his curled fist. "Juice."

"Sure," Ron whispered. He had the goblet half way to his mouth before we were joined by another.

"Hello everyone."

I turned to my right and was pleasantly surprised to see Luna sitting next to me, her head adorned with her famous roaring lion hat. Oh, how I loved that thing. "Hello, Luna," I greeted.

She smiled at me and looked at the person sitting to my left. "You look dreadful, Ron," she said and he grimaced. She didn't notice his expression and glanced over at Harry. "Is that why you put something in his cup?"

I blinked. "What?"

"Is it a tonic?"

I looked at Harry just in time to see him slip a small, familiar vial of clear liquid into his pocket. The light I had seen glinting off something in his hand… it couldn't be. He wouldn't. _He did._

"Liquid Luck," Hermione gasped. "_Don't drink it, Ron."_

Ron looked from Hermione to Harry and back again, his face alight with indecision before he reached a verdict and lifted the goblet to his mouth, draining the contents in a few large gulps. Harry was smiling rather smugly as Ron set the goblet down, his eyes sparkling.

"You could be expelled for that," Hermione hissed, looking absolutely scandalized.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said in a rush.

"Harry, she's right," I spoke up. "That was foolish."

He merely kicked my foot under the table and mouthed "_relax." _

"Come on, Harry," said Ron, grinning like a madman. Or a man who knew today was his lucky day. "We've got a game to win."

Harry grasped Ron's hand tightly within his own before they left the table, Hermione and I watching them go with matching expressions of disbelief.

x-x-x

Ron was playing beautifully.

It was snowing heavily and the world around us was completely white, but that didn't deter the Gryffindor team one bit. Dean was standing in as Katie's replacement until she returned from St Mungo's, and he was certainly holding his own. Ginny was amazing, as usual, but it was Ron who stole the show.

He didn't miss a single shot, performing some very impressive maneuvers in order to stop the Quaffle from flying through the hoops. It wasn't long before the crowd was shouting: _Weasley, Weasley, Weasley!_

Even Hermione started clapping after a while.

I may or may not have been cheering the whole time. Liquid Luck or not, this was the most gripping game I'd seen in a long time.

The game was over the moment Harry caught the Snitch. Gryffindor won.

The common room was like one big party that night. Red and gold confetti fell in constant streams from the ceiling, flags were waving and music blared from an unknown source. Ron was definitely the hero of the match and the other students made sure he knew it.

Harry, Hermione and I stood together in amongst the crowd, watching as people cheered and congratulated him on such a tremendous performance. I had managed to give him a hug a little earlier on, shouting in his ear over the blasting noise. He was positively beside himself with joy.

"You really shouldn't have done it," Hermione said, drawing our attention away from the celebration.

"I know," Harry agreed. "Suppose I could have just used a Confundus Charm."

I couldn't help but laugh at Hermione's shocked expression. "Yeah, we know," I said.

"That was different," she defended herself. "That was tryouts; this was an actual game."

Harry didn't say anything. Instead, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the vial of Liquid Luck, which I was shocked to see was still full; the cork was firmly in place and the wax seal remained unbroken.

Hermione stared at it for a moment before realization struck her. "You didn't put it in." Harry shook his head. "Ron only thought you did." This time, Harry nodded, looking mighty pleased with himself.

"That," I began with an incredulous laugh, "was very, _very_ sneaky; and quite the cure for nerves!"

Suddenly the room erupted with even louder cheers and screams and when we turned to investigate, all we saw was Ron and Lavender attached at the lips.

Well… that was unexpected.

I watched for a moment before my eyes began to dart in all directions, trying desperately to find something else to watch instead of one of my best friends groping his way through a kiss. Thankfully Harry provided the distraction I needed, grabbing my hand and tugging with an air of urgency.

I turned my head to look at him and quickly noticed that Hermione had vanished. "Where did she go?" I asked, rising up onto my toes to try and see her over the crowd. I was fairly certain I glimpsed her exiting through the portrait hole.

Harry followed my gaze and began moving forward, tugging me along behind him.

The silence that greeted us after we left the common room was almost blissful, except my ears were still ringing in the aftermath of all the noise. Harry led me through the corridors, turning his head this way and that as we searched for our friend. I noticed a few other students gathered in alcoves along the wider paths, chattering amongst themselves and exchanging smiles; it was a nice thing to see.

"Do you think you could find her?" Harry asked after a few minutes of fruitless searching, the two of us coming to a stop at the end of yet another empty corridor.

"Sure." I was just about to search for her when the sound of someone sniffling echoed down the hall. I looked around through blue tinted eyes, feeling her essence in the back of my mind; she was close. "Did you hear that?" I asked as the glow faded away and my eyes returned to their regular colour.

He nodded, a slight twist to the set of his mouth. "I think we've found her."

The descent of a nearby spiral staircase proved our theory. There, sitting at the bottom of the staircase that led to an empty classroom, was Hermione. A flock of little golden birds were flying in elegant circles above her head, twittering and chirping in the silence. I wondered if she had conjured them to mask the sound of her tears.

She looked up when we reached her before turning away again to wipe her cheeks. She noticed our fascination with the tiny birds and jumped at the chance to delay our questions. "Charms spell," she said, her voice thick with sadness. I felt my heart clench at the shattered expression on her face. "Just practicing." Her voice caught on a sob and she looked away.

Harry watched them for a moment longer, seemingly at a loss for something to say. He eventually settled on: "Well, they're really good."

"Really good is an understatement," I added, determined to lift her spirits. "There's a reason you're top of the class."

Our words went practically unnoticed as Hermione stared ahead in silence, tears still running down her cheeks. Harry and I lowered ourselves to sit beside her, him on her left and me on her right. The birds dipped at the sudden movement and I smiled a little as the smallest one swirled around my head. The moonlight lit the place where we sat while the remainder of the room dwelled in shadow. Perhaps that was why Hermione had chosen to sit here; so that she could find the light in her time of darkness.

I had a feeling I knew what had upset her. The moment she spoke I knew I was right.

"How does it feel, Harry?" she asked, her slender body jolting with a hiccup. "When you see Dean with Ginny?"

Harry was silent, his face registering a hint of shock at her words. He obviously thought we hadn't noticed. "Oh… um…"

She sniffed again and a few more tears fell. "I know," she managed. "I see the way you look at her. You're my best friend." She leaned back against my shoulder as I brushed a lock of hair away from her wet cheek. "You both are."

"We know, sweetheart," I soothed, feeling my own eyes sting with the threat of tears at her sorrow.

High pitched laughter rang through the classroom a moment before the sound of heavy footsteps announced the arrival of none other than Lavender Brown, trailing a giddy looking Ron behind her. They stopped the moment they saw us.

"Oops!" Lavender sang, her eyes intent on Hermione. I bared my teeth at her tone, letting a low growl settle in my throat. "I think this room's taken," she whispered to Ron, still loud enough for us to hear, before she skipped out of the room in search of a more private place.

Ron stayed behind. "What's with the birds?" he asked, completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend was hurting.

Hermione shot to her feet, her eyes narrowed and burning with vindictive fire. _"Oppugno," _she snapped. At her firm instruction, the chirping birds rose up into a straight line above her head before swooping downwards with startling speed, aiming straight for Ron. He noticed this and was quick to scurry out of the way, dodging their attack just in time. We watched in silence as they slammed into the open door, exploding with a small _poof _against the wood. Their soft, golden feathers floated slowly toward the ground.

Ron stared at Hermione in shock and perhaps just a little bit of hurt before he left the room without a word, his face a few shades paler than when he arrived. I felt bad for him, but I felt even worse for Hermione. I could hardly blame her for her actions.

The moment he was gone Hermione's face crumbled and she lowered herself back down, Harry and I moving to accommodate her. She rested her head on his shoulder and reached back to take my hand, squeezing hard as she was overwhelmed with another round of vicious sobbing. Harry offered her his arm and she clutched it with her other hand. I pressed my face into the back of her shoulder, hoping to provide her with the comfort she so obviously needed.

"It feels like this," Harry said after a while, and I reached over to gently touch his back. It seemed Hermione wasn't the only one with a broken heart.

"It's okay, Hermione," I whispered into the darkness. "We're here for you."

* * *

**Rooooon, you idiot.**

**Okay, I can't be the only one who read that as Roon. Derp.**

**I really enjoyed writing the end scene for this chapter. While most of the angst in this series is because of Voldemort, having proper teenage emotional drama was a nice change. I also really like that Amber is old enough, and emotionally mature enough, for me to start tackling this sort of thing. While it's a bit sad for me that she's growing up, it's crazy and fun at the same time. Thank God it's not HER romantic drama, though. Can you imagine if she and Cedric started having problems? GUH. MY FEELS.**

**You know how I said Cedric might be making an appearance this week? Well, it may or me not be in the next chapter. Shhh shhhhhh I didn't say anything shhh it's a secret shhh.**

**Until then, however, I would love to hear your thoughts. Even if they're just incoherent ramblings about being excited for Cedric ;)**

**See you soon!**

**xx**


	9. Lighter Than Air

**Of course the chapter with Cedric in it would be the biggest one in the whole damn story ;)**

**Apologies for not posting this last week. I was simply unable to find the time.**

**Thanks to Libby for keeping me sane while I preread this monster. Not that we're all that sane anyway...**

**Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine  
Lighter Than Air**

Hogwarts was definitely in the Christmas spirit. Hagrid had already brought in the twelve Christmas trees for the Great Hall, which were now adorned with shining baubles and tinsel that glittered like stars under the candlelight. Garlands of holly and tinsel were wrapped around the banisters of the stairs, and mistletoe hung on from just about every available surface. It was a little bit maddening.

Lavender certainly seemed to be using the mistletoe to her advantage. I'd lost count of how many times I'd stumbled upon her and Ron under the delicate plant, wrapped around each other in ways that should be not only impossible, but illegal. Ron didn't seem bothered by the constant attention in the slightest; in fact, I'd say he was rather enjoying it. I'd heard him bragging to Harry on multiple occasions.

While Ron and I were still very good friends, there were a few times when I found myself wanting to either beat him with my textbooks or throw things at him until he apologized to Hermione.

The two of them hadn't spoken in weeks; Lavender was always around, which dashed any hope of reconciliation anytime soon. It was a bit awkward for Harry and me, the two of us being torn in all directions whenever people requested our company. A lot of the time Harry would go off with Ron while I spent time with Hermione. It was nice, but I missed the days when we could all spend time together without having to worry about overprotective girlfriends and unrequited affection.

"Do you think they'll ever make up?" Harry asked as the two of us walked down to the library one evening to meet up with Hermione. She was, as usual, staying late to catch up on study – or to avoid Ron.

"God, I don't know anymore," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. It got caught between my fingers and Harry laughed when I accidentally pulled it over my face. I elbowed him in the ribs for good measure. "I hope they will."

However, when we found Hermione packing up her books and rolls of parchment, her attitude made us think otherwise. Especially when Harry brought up Ron and the upcoming Christmas party Slughorn was hosting.

"He's at perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes," she snapped as we followed her through the aisles, watching as she sorted the books she had taken out back into their correct places. "I really couldn't care less."

Her tone belied her harshly spoken words, but I wasn't about to tell her that. The last thing I needed was to be frosted over by her icy glare.

"Was I under the impression he and I would be attending Slughorn's Christmas party together? Yes. Now, given the circumstances, I've had to make other arrangements."

I looked up at her words, my fingers pausing from where they'd been flicking through one of her books. She hadn't told me about this new development, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want details.

"Have you?" Harry said, sounding a little bit put out. I knew what he had been hoping to suggest.

"Yes," she deadpanned. "Why?" She took the book from my hands and held it up to the towering shelf. The moment her fingers relaxed the book floated up, up, up to its designated spot and pushed its way in between the books that had fallen into the gap it had left.

"Well, I just thought, seeing as neither of us can go with who we'd really like to, we should go together, as friends." We paused at the end of the aisle, leaning against the empty desks on either side.

Hermione's face fell in disappointment. "Why didn't I think of that?" she scolded herself.

"Who are you going with?" Harry asked, sensing the distress in her tone.

"It's rude to keep secrets, you know," I added, smiling a little in the hopes of easing her troubled mind.

"Um," Hermione hesitated. "It's a surprise. Anyway, it's you we've got to worry about. You can't just take anyone." She looked over her shoulder and subtly walked over to where Harry and I stood; well, Harry stood. I was sitting on the desk. "See that girl over there?"

Harry and I looked over Hermione's shoulder to where a girl with dark, curly hair was sitting by the window. She didn't seem to be hiding the fact that she was staring straight at us. "That's Romilda Vane," Hermione went on. "Apparently she's trying to smuggle you a Love potion."

Harry looked quite flattered. _"Really?"_

Hermione noticed this and clicked her fingers in front of his face. "Hey!" she scolded. "She's only interested in you because she thinks you're The Chosen One."

"But I _am _The Chosen One," Harry shot back cheekily, completely full of himself by this point.

The newspaper Hermione was holding cracked down against his head with a sharp _thwack! _The dazed expression on his face was so amusing that I burst into loud laughter, quickly slapping a hand over my mouth so that I wouldn't get in trouble with Madam Pince.

"Okay, sorry," Harry apologized in a small voice, the impact obviously having calmed his overly inflated ego. "Um, kidding. I'll… ask someone I like. Someone cool." He nodded, resolute, and finally turned back to look at me, noticing the redness of my cheeks and the way my eyes were watering. "Are you okay?"

I began giggling again and buried my face in his sweater.

We remained in the library a little while longer, the two of them waiting while I took some book notes for my classes. With that done the three of us began the trek back to the common room; it was getting late and we had to be back before McGonagall caught us wandering the halls after hours. We spent most of the journey arguing about whether or not Filch and Madam Pince were secretly in love with each other.

Hermione spoke up as we ascended the moving staircases. "I can't believe I forgot," she said, pressing her fingers to her forehead. "Amber, who are you taking to the party?"

I shrugged. I had finally written to Cedric about the Christmas party and how I probably wouldn't take anyone with me. He had written back, sounding rather excited about the prospect of a party. He hoped I had fun and couldn't wait to hear all about it; I had been a little suspicious, but decided to let it slide. It's not like he was about to show up just to escort me, even though such a thing would be absolutely wonderful. "No one," I replied casually.

She blinked her eyes wide. "Well then, why don't you and Harry go together?"

Harry shook his head. "She's already looking out for me every minute of the day. I'm not about to ask her to be my date for a party when she's probably had quite enough of me."

I laughed. "Like that could ever happen. I'd be happy to go with you."

He smiled. "Thanks, but it's really not necessary. Besides, I think I know who I'm going to ask."

I tilted my head to the side but didn't argue further. I wasn't upset that he had already chosen someone and I certainly didn't mind going alone. There was every chance he had gotten sick of _my _constant presence.

Hermione went straight to bed the moment we stepped into the common room. All it took was a glance in the right direction to know why. Ron and Lavender were curled up in an armchair, kissing. _Again. _Instead of letting me settle in front of the fire and start catching up on my work, Hermione grabbed my arm and dragged me up to the dormitory with her.

"Whoa, whoa!" I laughed, stumbling up the stairs. "Careful! I need my arm, you know."

She let go and apologized in a low voice, marching to her bed as the door closed behind us. "You're going to think I'm such an idiot."

My eyes narrowed as I perched myself on the end of my bed. Bella swooped in through the open window, covered in snow, and landed on the arm I held out for her. "Hey, beautiful girl," I crooned and pressed a kiss to her feathered cheek. Hermione smiled weakly and my attention shifted back to her. "Now, what's wrong?"

Instead of answering she pushed her sight toward me, waiting in silence as I witnessed her memories through the blue glow. "Oh no," I gasped. "Hermione, you didn't."

"I did."

"Really?" My voice rose in disbelief and Bella flapped her wings in surprise, showering snowflakes all over me. "_Cormac?"_

"_I know!" _She dropped her head into her hands, cursing me under her breath when I started laughing. "It's not funny."

"It's a little funny," I snickered. "Of all the people you could have asked, you chose Cormac?"

She groaned and flopped onto her back. Thankfully the other girls were still downstairs, and anyone who was up here was fast asleep. "Shut up."

I shook my head and stroked the top of Bella's head, smiling as her wide, blue eyes blinked up at me. "You're one brave girl, Hermione Granger."

x-x-x

It was 7:45 on the night of Slughorn's Christmas party and I was almost ready. I had been trying to get my shoes on, but quickly realized that standing on one foot while yanking the shoe on wasn't doing me any favours, especially in a long dress. After sitting down and sliding them on with a much greater level of success, I gave my hair another quick brush, told Bella to behave herself while I was away – she hooted at me and went back to staring out the window – and made my way down into the common room.

Hermione had already gone to meet Cormac; apparently she hadn't told Harry about her date yet. She had looked a little green when I all but pushed her out the door, reminding her that it was her idea to ask him, not mine. Harry was still here, however, and rose from his spot on the couch when I came into view.

"Amber, you look beautiful." He took my hands with a smile, squeezing them as my cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Thanks," I said. I hadn't dressed up in a while and I'll admit that it felt nice. Like any other girl, I enjoyed looking pretty, although I certainly couldn't do it every day. It was so tiring. I had chosen a simple blue floor-length strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline. The shoes I wore – that had given me all the trouble earlier – were small heeled, black and very unassuming. I wasn't interested in standing out and wanted to look as much like myself as I could. I felt comfortable in this, and that was the most important thing. "You look rather dashing yourself."

Harry was dressed very smartly in dark robes and a deep mahogany shirt underneath. He looked so much older now when compared to his fourteen year old self at the Yule Ball. He and Luna would make a wonderful pair tonight.

I had been absolutely ecstatic when he told me he was taking Luna as his date. The fifth year girl was an absolute sweetheart. She deserved a fun night out, and Harry's kind invitation proved just how big his heart was.

Ron looked up from his usual spot on the armchair, Lavender perched on his lap as always. "You really do look nice," he said casually. I smiled at him, biting back a snarl when Lavender narrowed her eyes at me. Honestly, the girl was so protective it was insane.

"Thank you, Ron," I said, ignoring Lavender completely. "Come on, Harry, we don't want to be late. I'm sure Luna's waiting for you."

It was still snowing outside as we made our way down the usual corridors to where Slughorn's party was being held. There were lanterns strung along the ceiling to light the way the closer we got, despite the fact that we didn't need directions; still, they were nice to look at.

Harry paused when we were a few corridors away from our destination and I turned to look at him. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course," he replied. "I um, I just remembered that I'm meeting Luna at eight. I think I'll hang back and wait for her."

"Oh. Do you want me to wait with you?"

"No, no, that's okay." There was a glint in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, but he didn't elaborate, so I didn't ask. "You go on ahead."

"If you're sure…"

"Absolutely. Go on."

Unsure of what else to do I turned on my heel and continued down the corridor, swaying my arms a little with each step. It was odd, walking by myself. I couldn't remember the last time I had done so; every other time I had been walking with Harry, Hermione or Ron, or all of them. It gave me a few minutes to myself and I spent it in peaceful silence, watching the snow flutter by outside. For a moment, when I turned a corner into another hall, I thought I caught sight of Draco leaning against the wall. By the time I turned around to investigate, he was gone.

"This is what happens when you're left alone," I teased myself, hurrying my steps down the hall. I didn't want to be late. "You start seeing things; god, you're a loony. A loony who talks to herself. Wonderful."

I made it down a few more empty corridors – all lit with those increasingly charming lanterns – before I was struck with the oddest sensation in my chest. It started in my heart and quickly spread through the rest of my body, warming me from the inside out. I closed my eyes for a moment to enjoy the rush, a faint smile touching my lips. The feeling was soft and familiar and brought me the utmost peace.

Confused but completely blissful, I continued on, but the moment I rounded the last corner that would lead me to the party I stopped in my tracks. My eyes widened and I felt my heart – which had been beating softly, perfectly untroubled – thumping against my ribs. "Oh my God," I whispered.

There, standing casually in the middle of the looming hallway, was Cedric. He turned around at my disbelieving whisper and I inhaled a gasp at the sight of him. I wished I had enough presence of mind to take in what he was wearing but all I could see was his face, familiar and achingly handsome. His lips pulled up into a smile and I was sure I would fall backwards at the sight. "Surprise," he said and held his arms out for me.

I ran to him without hesitation, the sound of my heels clicking over the stone floor a distant tapping in the back of my mind. As soon as I was close enough I threw myself into his arms, crying out against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me with a low groan. Warmth exploded between us and I clutched him to me, digging my nails into the back of his suit jacket. I felt his lips press against my hair and struggled not to cry. "You're here," I croaked.

"I'm here."

"_What _are you doing here?"

He laughed and I burrowed further into his chest at the sound. He leaned back a little to look down at me and I lost myself in those sea coloured eyes. "You can thank Dumbledore for that," he said.

I blinked. "What?"

"When Dumbledore heard Slughorn was throwing a Christmas party, he sent me an owl requesting my presence here on the night. He knew you wouldn't ask anyone to go with you and wondered if I would like to fill the vacancy." His soft fingers stroked my cheek and I turned my face toward them, kissing his knuckles as they passed over my lips. "He knows how hard this is for you," he continued. "Us being separated, I mean. Besides, did you honestly think I'd miss the chance to see you?"

I smiled, my eyes filling with the tears I fought so hard to hold back. "When did you get here?" My voice was weak and shaky, but I had to know.

"About an hour ago. You have no idea how badly I wanted to come up and see you, but I didn't know the password."

"Baubles," I laughed through my tears. "The password is Baubles."

"How festive," he mused, wiping the tears from my cheeks as they rushed down to my chin. "Come here," he breathed and bent down to kiss me.

I melted into him the moment our lips touched, warm and soft and absolutely heavenly. His hands cupped my cheeks while I slid my own into his unruly hair, parting my lips under his. Tongues touched and we both released quiet groans as we gravitated towards each other, reuniting after so many months apart. He slid a hand through my hair and down my back, my body trembling as he brushed against my bare skin. He pulled away long before I was ready, despite the fact that we were both gasping for breath. He seemed to share my desperation and leaned his forehead against mine, his panting breaths ghosting over my lips.

"God, you have no idea how much I've missed you," he breathed.

I laughed breathlessly and gently stroked my fingers down his cheek. The faint sprinkling of stubble scratched wonderfully against my fingertips. "I think I might have an idea. You look annoyingly handsome, by the way." He wore a sharp black suit, white undershirt and thin black tie. It was incredibly distracting.

He straightened up again and raised his eyebrows. _"Annoyingly handsome?" _he mouthed, his face twisting in mock hurt.

I giggled and pulled him down for a quick, apologetic kiss. "You know what I mean."

He hummed and kissed his way across my cheek, up over my temple and into my hair, chuckling at my giggles. "I've missed that sound," he sighed. "You look absolutely stunning. That colour looks beautiful on you."

I beamed, much happier with my dress choice than I had been earlier. "Thank you," I said. "Now, enough of your flattery; we need to get to this party before we miss it completely."

He chuckled, but stepped back and offered me his arm. "Shall we, Miss Dawson?"

I tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and pressed close to him. "We shall."

We walked slowly down the final corridor, the open door of the party venue in full view. I almost didn't want to go in.

"So, tell me about this Professor Slughorn," Cedric said. "He was never at Hogwarts while I was here. What's he like?"

I frowned. I'd never been asked this before. "He's… nice. A bit obsessed with social standings and the status of whom he knows, but he's pleasant enough."

"Do you like him?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose. He's a good teacher. He can be… difficult at times." Cedric nodded, knowing full well that he was giving Harry and I quite a hard time at present. "I certainly don't dislike him." There. That was good enough. I hadn't really thought of my own opinion of the potions master. I had been too focused on Harry and what _he_ thought. It was nice having someone who wanted to know my feelings on trivial little things like that. Not that Harry and the others didn't care, because I knew they did. They just had far too much on their plate, and I was used to keeping to myself most of the time. "I love you, you know that?"

"I do, but it's always nice to hear." We paused outside the door and he kissed me again. "I love you, too."

Slughorn's office looked much bigger than usual and as we walked inside I couldn't help but wonder if he used magical trickery to make it so. The walls and ceiling had been draped in emerald and gold hangings, turning the spaces by the windows into little alcoves. All in all it looked rather nice; not only that, but it was full of people. Most of whom I didn't recognize.

"Cedric?"

I turned at the shy voice and smiled when I spotted Neville standing a few feet away, a silver tray perched on the flat of his right hand. Cedric held out his hand. "Neville," he greeted cheerfully. "It's good to see you again."

"I didn't know you were coming," he said in delight. "It's been ages."

"_I_ didn't even know he was coming," I laughed.

Cedric grinned as he and Neville shook hands. "It was a surprise," he explained. "And you're right, it's been far too long. You're looking very well."

Neville beamed. "Thanks. Would either of you like a drink?"

Cedric took a glass while I declined, opting to sip from his instead. Cedric and Neville spoke for a little while longer – even though Neville was supposed to be serving drinks to _everyone. _I watched the scene with a sense of pure bliss. I loved that Cedric was getting the chance to catch up with my friends; people that he'd gotten to know after we got together. I couldn't wait for him to see Harry.

Thankfully I didn't have to wait long. Harry and Luna arrived a few minutes after we did, the two boys moving to each other almost immediately.

"Harry, mate," Cedric began happily. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

Harry shook his hand with a wide smile. "Hey, Ced. It's great to see you." His eyes found mine and the sparkle was back. "Found yourself a date, then?"

It didn't take me long to connect the dots. "You knew!" I cried, pointing an accusing finger at him. He started laughing. "You knew the whole time and didn't tell me!"

"That's my fault," Cedric said. "I told him to keep it a secret."

I huffed. "That's why you didn't want to go with me," I grumbled, narrowing my eyes at Harry.

He grinned. "It's not that I didn't want to, it was because I wasn't allowed."

I cracked a smile at this, even though I hadn't been mad at all in the first place. The four of us spoke for a while, Cedric making sure to ask Luna how she had been and how her classes were going. She answered all of his questions with the utmost sincerity, her pale eyes gleaming peacefully. Cedric had always been fond of her and her curious ways.

"Where's Hermione?" I asked after a while, surprised that she hadn't found us yet.

Harry frowned as he, too, realized this, and began looking around. "I dunno. Perhaps I should go look for her… oh no."

I turned at the change in his tone and bit back a grimace as Professor Slughorn came strolling over, eyes alight with joy at the sight of Harry standing near the doorway. "Harry, m'boy!" he cried. "Glad you could make it. Oh, good to see you, too, Miss Dawson." His eyes travelled to my date and his smile grew. "This must be Mr. Diggory, I take it?" I nodded happily and watched as the professor shook the hand that wasn't wrapped around mine. "A pleasure to meet you, Cedric. I should very much like to speak to you a bit later, but for now I have a few people who would like to meet Harry. Come along, my boy."

Harry followed willingly, but not before we shared a teasing glance. The poor thing.

Cedric watched them go before turning back to me. "Is he always like that with him?"

I laughed. "Pretty much."

We spent the next half hour or so mingling with the other partygoers. I eventually found Ginny and struck up a conversation with her. Cedric seemed pleased to see her, having not seen any of the Weasleys since his stay at The Burrow over the summer. It was during their conversation that Slughorn found us again and politely dragged us away, introducing us to a few of his friends who asked me question after question about my gifts. Cedric noticed my discomfort and excused us from the conversation for a quick moment of peace.

"Are you alright?" he asked, bending his knees so that we were standing almost eye-to-eye. "You seem a bit stressed."

I smiled weakly and touched his face. "I'm fine, really. Slughorn was like this with me during the first supper party he held. I'm not surprised he's told other people about me."

Cedric kissed my forehead. "Most people know who you are anyway. I can see why he's so taken by you; apart from Harry, you're probably one of the rarest students in this school."

I scowled. "You make it sound like I should be displayed in some dusty old museum."

He shook his head vehemently. "That wasn't my intention, but do you see what I mean? That's probably how he thinks of you. Imagine the bragging rights he'd get from knowing The Silver Phoenix _and _The Boy Who Lived."

I sighed, finally understanding. "Harry is much more important than I am," I said. I wasn't jealous, it was a simple truth. Harry was so very precious, and it was my job to protect him, however I could.

"Not to me," Cedric said in a low voice. He pulled me to his chest for a moment and we breathed each other in. The sound of his heart against my ear settled the bubble of frustration that had been threatening to burst inside me, and I soon felt relaxed enough to rejoin the party. Cedric noticed the moment I nuzzled my nose into his shirt and ran a gentle hand through my hair. "Better?"

"Better," I replied with a small nod. "Sorry."

He smiled. "Don't be. I get that you're frustrated, I do. This year hasn't been easy on you so far."

I took his hands and pressed my lips to his knuckles. "Let's not talk about it right now. I want you to enjoy tonight."

His eyes softened and I felt his fingers clench around mine. After sharing a few more soft words we rejoined the chattering crowds, introducing ourselves to unknown guests when they stopped us from continuing around the room. Cedric handled himself beautifully, controlling the topics and easing us away from people the moment I started getting uncomfortable. I no longer felt bitter about having people pry; they were curious, and that was hardly an attribute that demanded faulting.

Slughorn eventually found us again, offering us another glass full of sparkling liquid. Cedric took one and handed it straight to me, smiling a little as I sipped at it. "Enjoying the party, are we?" he asked pleasantly. He seemed rather happy with the turn out if the grin on his face was anything to go by.

"Absolutely," Cedric replied. "It's a shame no one did such things when I was here."

Slughorn chuckled. "I'm glad you were able to make it, Mr. Diggory. I've heard quite a lot about you: Hufflepuff seeker, contestant in the Tri-Wizard Tournament –" I flinched at those words, remembering the stress and panic of that year. I was more than happy to see that competition end. Slughorn didn't notice my twisted expression as he rattled off the list of Cedric's other accomplishments and gushed over his talent in his old Charms class. Apparently Flitwick had nothing but nice things to say about him, which helped to lift my spirits.

"- and what about you, Miss Dawson?"

My head whipped around at Slughorn's words, realizing I had unconsciously tuned out their droning conversation, focusing instead on the lulling hum of Cedric's calming voice. "Sorry," I apologized. "What was that, sir?"

He chuckled at my expense. "I asked how your classes were going."

"Oh. Very well, thank you."

Slughorn smiled and turned his gaze back to Cedric. "I've heard she's rather talented in Defense against the Dark Arts," he said.

Cedric nodded, squeezing my hand in silent apology. He knew I always felt uncomfortable when people singled me out like this. "She's remarkable. I've seen her in action and it's really something special."

"She undergoes training outside of school, yes?"

"Uh, yes." Cedric hesitated, unsure of whether or not this was confidential information. Perhaps he'd spoken to Dumbledore about me in passing. I shrugged. "She was training over the summer."

Slughorn nodded and backed away from the subject, obviously realizing that we weren't going to divulge any more information. "Miss Dawson," he went on, and I looked up at him expectantly. "Would it be too much for me to ask for a demonstration of your gifts? I've never heard of such a talent existing and would very much like to see it firsthand."

I balked. I hadn't been expecting such a request and it would be awfully rude to deny him. He was one of my teachers, after all. "Um…" I looked to Cedric for help but he merely smiled at me. It seemed I didn't have much of a choice. "Of course, Professor."

"Splendid!" His eyes lit up and I knew I had made the right decision. "Is there anything you need me to do?"

I smiled, realizing that this might help Harry burrow further into Slughorn's good books. If this would help even a little, I'd be happy to oblige. "Just hold still and keep your mind open."

Cedric tightened his grip on my hand and I squeezed back in thanks. His touch would help keep me grounded in this crowded room, especially since I was looking through new eyes; it was always a little tricky with new people. I just hoped I wouldn't have the same issues I did with Malfoy.

Thankfully the transition was an easy one. I kept my eyes closed until I was able to grip his unfamiliar essence and link our minds together. A small flash of warmth pinched the bottom of my spine and I smiled, knowing it was Cedric's doing. He was proud of me. I took a steadying breath as the sensation eased and opened my eyes, laughing a little as I saw myself from his point of view, the blue of my dress amplified by the brighter blue tinge of the world through these eyes. I could sense his appreciation of the way we looked together; united, strong and completely in love. Such a thing should have seemed strange coming from a teacher, but I knew it was a purely natural observation. I was glad to see that he thought that about us, because it certainly felt that way.

Instead of telling him such things, I broke the connection and smiled. "I'm glad you like my dress, professor," I laughed. "It took me an age to pick it out."

He clapped his hands together and let out a joyous laugh. "Remarkable!" he cried happily. "And the other person doesn't feel a thing. Does she do that with you often, Cedric?" Cedric nodded, taking the glass when I offered it to him. "And it's completely willing?"

He nodded again. "My mind is always open to her."

"Is distance an issue?"

I shook my head, watching as Cedric took a sip of his drink. The bob of his Adam's apple distracted me for a moment. "Not anymore."

"Very impressive. You're like a Legilimens that can't be blocked."

I felt my brows pull together at the description. I'd never heard anyone describe my gifts quite like that, and I suppose it wasn't wrong. Still, there were ways I could be stopped; painful ways, but it wasn't impossible. I didn't feel it necessary to tell him such things, though. The less people knew, the better.

Cedric cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles. He knew of my troubles and how it would be unwise to speak of them. Before Slughorn could bring up my gifts again I felt a small hand wrap around my wrist and tug so hard that I stumbled. Cedric looked at me in surprise as the jerky movement made me pull on his hand around mine; his gaze quickly travelled over my shoulder and he smiled, releasing my hand. I looked over my shoulder to see Hermione, clad in a soft pink dress and staring at me with wide, panicked eyes. I whirled back to the two men watching me and smiled apologetically. "Excuse me for a moment," I said before letting Hermione drag me into one of the little alcoves, the two of us ducking behind the gold curtain. Snow was still falling steadily outside, coating the ground in a white blanket.

"What in the world is going on?" I hissed as we huddled against the window. "And what happened to your hair?"

She let out a soft whine and tried to fix the flyaway strands that had come loose from their clips. As she did so, I was able to put two and two together. She noticed the second I caught on and glared at me as I started giggling. "Be quiet."

"Sorry." I held a hand up in surrender and tried to quiet my amusement. "Cormac, huh?"

She nodded. "He's awful."

"Why didn't you come and find me sooner? I'm sure Cedric would have been happy to help keep you hidden."

"Ugh. I don't know." She tucked another strand behind her ear and clutched my hands in hers. "Remind me to never do something this stupid again."

I laughed. "Never do something this stupid again."

She finally cracked a smile. "Thank you."

It was then that the curtain was pulled back and Harry slipped into the alcove with us, looking terribly confused. "Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine in silent greeting. "And what happened to you?"

"Cormac happened," I said as Hermione went back to her hair.

She let out another whining breath and lowered her arms. "I've just escaped," she sighed, sounding rather panicked now that I thought about it. She quickly backtracked at the startled expression on Harry's face. "I mean," she lowered her voice, as though sharing a terrible secret. "I left Cormac under the mistletoe."

His eyes flew back to mine in disbelief and I smiled wryly. "Yeah, I wasn't kidding."

"Cormac," he said in a low voice. "_That's _who you invited?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. It wasn't hard to tell that she was deeply regretting her choice of date for the evening. "I thought it would annoy Ron the most."

"It would have been worth it if Ron were here to see you with him," I said. "You're just torturing yourself."

She gave me a dry stare, but dropped her shoulders in defeat. "He's got more tentacles than a Snarfalump plant."

I grimaced at her misfortune; the last thing anyone wanted was to get groped by McLaggen. Before either of us could comment on the situation the gold curtain was pulled back and a waiter popped his head in, a silver tray perched atop his palm. "Dragon tartar?" he offered, smiling politely.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Hermione whispered. Harry and I both gestured against it.

The waiter leaned toward us and spoke in a soft voice. "Just as well; they give one horribly bad breath."

Hermione's head shot up at his words and she reached out for the tray before he could leave. "On second thoughts," she muttered, nodding gratefully as the man left us to our business. I raised my eyebrows at her as she plucked one of the balls between her fingers. "Might keep Cormac at bay," she explained before taking a huge bite of the delicacy. I wrinkled my nose. If it gave one bad breath, I couldn't even begin to imagine what it would taste like. That being said, I wasn't going to try one so I could find out. She looked up mid-chew and her eyes widened. "Oh God, here he comes!"

I had just enough time to look through the curtain and see Cormac's looming figure heading for us before Hermione grabbed my arm and dragged me back out into the main room with her, having shoved the tray into Harry's hands. "Hermione, for goodness sake," I laughed, trying not to trip in my shoes. The heels may not have been very high, but there was still a chance of me rolling my ankle if I stepped wrong. "Go and find Ginny; I'm sure she'll keep you well hidden."

Hermione let go of my arm and practically disappeared at my words, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, rubbing my aching wrist. The girl had quite a firm grip.

"_I think she just went to powder her nose."_

I looked back at the sound of Harry's voice and saw that Cormac had joined him behind the curtain. Oh dear.

"_Slippery little minx, your friend," _Cormac replied, in some twisted form of amusement. Did he find her reluctance thrilling? _"Likes to work her mouth, too, doesn't she? Yack, yack, yack." _His voice slurred a bit at the end, as though he had his mouth full and I narrowed my eyes, trying to see through the curtain. _"What's this I'm eating, by the way?" _he asked after a moment of silence. He must have taken the tray from Harry and helped himself.

"_Dragon balls," _Harry replied. I bit my lip to stifle my laughter at how ridiculous the phrase sounded. As I did so, Professor Snape swept by me in a haze of black robes, heading straight for Harry and Cormac. I blinked my eyes wide and opened my mouth to speak to him, perhaps distract him if I could – for what reason, I didn't know. But before I could, he had already passed me and flung open the curtain, revealing Harry and Cormac by the window. A moment later Cormac lurched forward, bent at the waist, and emptied the contents of his stomach onto Snape's shoes.

I wrinkled my nose and turned away. How disgusting.

"_You've just bought yourself a month's detention, McLaggen." _Snape's voice was low and without amusement at his situation. "_Not… so quick, Potter."_

I turned back around and spotted Harry a few feet away from me, his eyes clenched shut in frustration at being spotted. Had he been trying to slink away? He opened them again and focused straight on me, jerking his head in silent request for me to join him – just in case. I made it over there as he began to speak in a rush. "Sir, I really think I should rejoin the party, my date…"

"Can surely survive your absence for another minute or two," Snape finished, looking up as I stepped to Harry's side. He didn't look angry and he managed to refrain from narrowing his eyes at me as I lifted my chin in challenge. I was involving myself in their conversation whether he liked it or not. "Besides," he went on, resigned. "I only wish to convey a message."

"A message?" Harry asked. Who would work through Snape to give word to Harry?

"From Professor Dumbledore." Oh. "He asked me to give you both his best and he hopes you enjoy your holiday." From the sound of his voice, Snape did not share the Headmasters sentiments. "You see – he's travelling; and he won't return until term resumes."

I raised my eyebrows. That was news to us. "Travelling?" I asked.

"Travelling where?" Harry added, his voice sharp.

Snape stared at us for a moment before turning and walking away, his expression unchanging.

"Well," I deadpanned. "Thanks for all your help, professor." I placed my hand on Harry's shoulder and turned him to look at me. "You okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you see Cormac?"

I smiled. "No, but I heard him. I didn't have the strength to look at Snape's shoes."

"Did Hermione get away?" he asked, his cheerful disposition returning after the curious encounter with our teacher.

"She certainly did. I think she's over with Ginny. Now, I need to find Cedric again; I left him with Slughorn before, the poor thing."

"Yeah, goodness knows where Luna's gone."

I craned my neck to see over the crowds, quickly spotting Cedric by the far wall with – surprisingly enough - Luna and Professor Trelawney. He looked up, as though sensing my gaze, and smiled before politely excusing himself from their company and weaving through the crowd to get back to me. Before he reached me, however, there was a loud bang of a door hitting a wall and the sounds of a scuffle from the entrance to the bewitched office.

"Take your hands off me, you filthy squib!"

"Is that Malfoy?" I asked, taking Cedric's hand as he reached us. Sure enough, Filch was leading Draco into the middle of the room, his hand clenched around the back of Malfoy's suit jacket.

"Professor Slughorn, sir," Filch began in that sharp, unpleasant voice of his. "I just discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party –"

Malfoy intervened before Filch could continue. "Okay, okay! I was gate crashing. Happy?" he spat. I couldn't help but notice the panic that lined his eyes. Cedric let go of my hand and slid it around my waist, pulling me tight to his side. The outburst had obviously made him feel a little protective. Oh yes, my darling; Hogwarts was still not without its drama.

Snape stepped out of the crowd. "I'll escort him out," he offered, looming over Malfoy.

Draco jerked free of Filch's grip and stared up at his Head of House. "Certainly… professor," he said darkly, before turning and striding from the room with Snape at his heels.

Slughorn laughed weakly and waved his hands about. "Alright everyone, carry on, carry on!"

The music began again and the chatter resumed, although slightly lower than it had been before. I turned back to Cedric with anxious eyes. "What in the world was that all about?"

Cedric looked down at me, lifting his free hand to cup my cheek. "Your guess is as good as mine," he said. His eyes drifted over my shoulder and he frowned. "Where did Harry go?"

I turned around and sure enough, Harry was gone. I felt my stomach twist at his absence. I hadn't even heard him leave. "Uh, perhaps he went to the bathroom."

Before Cedric could speak everything around me fell away and I was in the outside corridor, the world glowing with its blue haze. I felt my body pitch forward and then Cedric's arms around me as the shock made my knees give out. I knew without a doubt that it was Harry, but what was he trying to show me? All I could see was the snow falling from one of the arched windows in the hall.

And then came the voices.

"_Maybe I did hex that Bell girl, maybe I didn't. What's it to you?" _

_A sharp sound, like a body hitting stone, echoed down the empty corridor._

"_I swore to protect you," Snape hissed. "I made the Unbreakable Vow."_

"_I don't need protection! I was chosen for this; out of all others, me! And I won't fail him." _

"_You're afraid, Draco. You attempt to conceal it but it's obvious, let me assist you."_

"_No! I was chosen. This is my moment!"_

In an instant I was back in my own mind, the images disappearing almost as quickly as they had come. I gasped into Cedric's shirt, my head spinning from the rush. His fingers clenched against my back. "Are you alright?" he asked, his lips pressed to my hair.

I wasn't sure.

x-x-x

"Do you really have to go?"

The remainder of the evening passed in a pleasant fashion. We mingled some more, although after the startling interruption we kept more to ourselves. Harry eventually returned, his eyes cold and stony. He didn't breathe a word of what he had heard and I wasn't about to ask him about it; we would discuss it on the train. This night was supposed to be fun. I would not let it be tainted any more than it already had been.

Slughorn had thanked us profusely for coming and took another few minutes to speak to Cedric before he left. _Had I had been teaching here at the time, I have no doubt that you would have made the shelf, _he had said. In fact, the two of us had gotten a few pictures taken with the potions master. I wondered if any of them would end up framed and perched upon those wooden shelves.

Harry, Hermione and Ginny had gone straight back to the common room to pack while Cedric and I took some time to wander about the castle. I saw a few Aurors hanging around the Great Hall and did my best to pay them as little attention as possible. It wasn't that I didn't respect them; it was that they reminded me of what waited outside these walls. What Cedric was going back into tonight.

"God, I miss this place," he sighed as we made our way up the moving staircases to the Fat Lady's portrait. Cedric insisted on walking me back to the common room, instead of letting me see him off at the front gates, where he would be escorted off the grounds so he could Apparate.

I smiled and tightened my grip on his long fingers. "It's nice having you back. It's like you never left." I tried to sound cheery, but there was a hint of sadness in my voice.

Cedric heard it and stopped me outside the closed portrait hole. The Fat Lady looked away politely. "Should I not have come tonight?"

"What? Of course you should have!" I pulled his hand up to my chest and wrapped both of mine around it. "I'm so glad you came tonight. You have no idea." I kissed his knuckles and let out a breath against his skin. "It's just hard, knowing I have to say goodbye again. I won't see you over Christmas." My eyes stung and I blinked hard to keep the tears back. "God knows when I'll see you again."

He exhaled slowly and I knew he'd caught on. "Oh, sweetheart. Come here." He pulled me close and I sank into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his torso and burying my face in his chest. "It's just as hard for me to be away from you, but for now, we have to. I miss you every day; not a minute goes by that I'm not thinking of you." He kissed my hair and I let out a dry sob against his shirt. "You are so strong, my love. _So _strong. I know you're having a hard time of it this year, but you can make it through. I know you can."

"Not without you," I whimpered. "I don't want you to go."

I didn't want to dampen his spirits and make him feel guilty, but I couldn't stop the despair that tightened my throat and made my blood run cold.

"If I had it my way, we'd never be apart. But there's nothing I can do." He hooked a finger under my chin and tilted my head back to look at him. I could see it in his eyes; he was struggling, too. There weren't words to express our constant need to be around each other, and how painful it was to be separated. To be reunited for one night and then forced to part again was the worst kind of torture, but I would rather see him for one night than not at all. I would take the pain if it meant I could see his face.

I sniffed and nodded my head, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck. He pulled me close again with a desperate groan, burying his face in my neck as I nuzzled into his unruly hair. His heart pounded against mine, the beats searing into my skin. I relished the burn. "Give your family my love," I said weakly, laughing through a hiccup.

His laughter was strained. "I will. I'm not sure who misses you more; me or my mother."

"You," I said into his ear. "We both know it's you." I kissed his earlobe and he shivered in my arms.

He leaned back and without a word, crushed our mouths together. I gasped, my lips parting under his, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, our groans muted by each other's lips. He walked me back until I felt the banister digging into my hips, but I didn't care. My senses were consumed by him. Our hands were as frantic as our lips, sliding over clothes and gripping where they could, trying to memorize any and all detail as we kissed. His lips were hot against mine and he snarled – a sound that made my body burn – as I sucked his lower lip into my mouth and bit down. It was the fuller of the two and I was just a little obsessed with it.

Cedric's hand cupped my hip while the other slid under my hair to grasp the back of my neck. We gasped between kisses, barely parting as we tried to breathe before diving back into the fray. I held him as close as I could get him, hoping that if I gripped hard enough, kissed him long enough, he wouldn't leave. I wanted to remember his kisses, his warmth, the sounds he made. It was a heady sensation, knowing I could make him so passionate, so completely uninhibited. He knew he held that same power over me. When we came together like this, we clashed like thunderclouds and struck the earth like bolts of lightning. We were a perfect storm.

But all storms must end, and soon enough our kisses began to slow until we were simply breathing each other in, our lips sliding together with each ragged inhale. The fingers that had been digging into my neck now lovingly stroked my skin, soothing the red marks I was sure he had left. I ran my fingers through his hair, delighting in the silky strands as they slid through my fingers. Cedric pressed our foreheads together and rubbed his nose against mine. The gesture was so sweet that I felt tears pooling in my eyes. Cedric's sea coloured eyes found mine as they began to fall.

"Hey," he whispered, bringing both his hands up to cup my cheeks. "Why are you crying?"

I sniffled. "I love you so much it hurts."

His eyes softened. "I know, sweetheart. I know exactly how you feel. But we'll be together again. I promise." I believed him. If there was one thing I knew, it was that we would always find each other, no matter the circumstance, or distance between us. Our souls were intertwined. No magic could keep us apart. "Dry your eyes. I'm going to remember this night for the rest of my life, and until we see each other again I will think of your face and the way you look tonight. I want to think back and know that I made you smile." He raised his eyebrows and gave me a gentle smile, encouraging me to mimic his action.

I laughed through my tears and wrapped my fingers around his wrists. The warm drops of water rolled over my lips and dripped off my chin, but still I smiled for him.

He kissed me again. "That's my girl."

* * *

**Gah! It feels so good to have these two together again :) I think that's why this chapter ended up being so long. I wanted to take my time and let them just enjoy each other. I'm such a sap. **

**I never realized how difficult it would be, having them be apart. They're never truly whole until they're together.**

**Anyway, we're about half way through the story now. I can't believe how fast it's gone o: I guess that's what happens when I post twice a week. **

**I know I had more to talk about, but I'm consumed by my feels for these kids. When I first started writing this series, never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I'd get so attached to them. I guess it just comes with the territory of being a writer. And you know what? I wouldn't trade it for anything :)**

**I actually made a polyvore set of their outfits if you'd like to have a look. There's a link to my polyvore account on my profile. The set is also called Lighter Than Air.**

**Well, I think that's everything. Hopefully I'll be back with another chapter later in the week. **

**Until then, I'd love to hear your thoughts :) Even if you just want to ramble on about Cedric. It's okay. I'm happy to see him, too.**

**See you again soon!**

**xx**


	10. Destruction

**You guys are amazing. Just so you know :)**

**The response to the last chapter was absolutely wonderful. I'm so happy you all enjoyed seeing Cedric again, because I loved having him around. I'm sure he'd be very flattered by all the attention everyone was giving him. I also found it really funny that you all pointed out that they got a little passionate at the end. Well, yeah. You try being separated from your partner for that long and not want to climb them like a tree once you're reunited. And Cedric's like, 6ft something, so I'm sure Amber would have fun scaling that tall drink of water. Am I right?**

**Hell yeah I'm right.**

**But, that's all we're going to see of him for now. He'll be back later. Right now, it's time to head back to The Burrow :) Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten  
Destruction**

My eyelids drooped as the train rocked below us, making the familiar journey back home. We had left early, and after spending the extra hours with Cedric the night before, along with finishing up the last of my packing, I hadn't gotten a whole lot of sleep. I had been napping on and off since we left, but Harry and Ron's almost constant chatter interrupted the bouts of unconsciousness I was desperately grasping at.

Harry wiggled one of the feet he had perched on my thighs and I shoved it away, smiling at his soft laughter. He had looked troubled all morning, obviously still thinking about the conversation we had overheard between Snape and Draco. I'll admit I was curious, but I was too tired to put any real thought into it just yet. We could discuss it at The Burrow, where I would be spending my Christmas holidays along with Harry and Ron.

The space next to Ron on the opposite side of the compartment had been claimed by my feet, seeing as Hermione wasn't riding with us. She was still doing her best to avoid Ron, which didn't seem to bother him today. I think he may have been enjoying the lack of female company - well, apart from mine, but there wasn't much he could do about that. On the other hand, I was missing Cedric's company already. He had sent word to me last night, assuring me of his safe return home. It was comforting to see the charming Diggory house, lit by the moon and surrounded by tall, guarding trees. My heart gave a painful squeeze as I recalled the way he kissed me on the stairs and I touched my lips with the tips of my fingers, recalling the pleasant tingle his passion had left behind.

"Unbreakable Vow; you're sure that's what Snape said?"

I tore my gaze from the snow covered scenery beyond the window at the sound of Ron's voice. I had tuned out their chatter for the last half hour or so, and they didn't seem inclined to ask me anything, but the mention of what had transpired less than twenty four hours ago reclaimed my attention. Harry had told him earlier about what we'd heard, but he must have been mulling it over for a while before he asked any questions.

"Positive," Harry replied. "Why?"

"It's just- you can't break an Unbreakable Vow."

"I'd worked that much out for myself, funnily enough," Harry deadpanned. If the topic wasn't so serious, I might have laughed.

"I don't understand…" he murmured, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

"I don't think any of us do at this point," I soothed. "It's all very new information."

He nodded a little, his eyes on my face for a few short seconds before they drifted to the glass door behind me. Almost immediately his spine straightened and he shifted awkwardly in his seat with a murmured, "Oh, bloody hell."

I turned around to investigate and started at the sight of Lavender Brown on the other side of the door, her face shining with what looked like tear streaks. She only had eyes for Ron as she held tight to the wooden framework on either side of the door. As we watched, she exhaled against the glass to create a fog and proceeded to draw a large heart with _R + L _written within. Harry fiddled with the moveable armrest between us as she added an arrow and several other embellishments to her work of art. It was easily one of the most awkward moments of my life.

After a whispered _"I miss you" _she finally left us in peace, the drawing still imprinted on the glass.

"Thank God that's over," I sighed the moment she was gone, dropping my head back against the seat.

Harry rested his copy of _Advanced Potion Making _in his lap and swung his head around to stare at his best friend. "Lovely," he said, his tone practically announcing his discomfort to the world.

Ron looked queasy. "All she wants to do is snog me," he complained in a low voice, leaning forward to look us in the eyes. "My lips are getting chapped – look!" He lifted himself from the chair and bent forward, his lips pursed for us to inspect. We both leaned away.

"I'll take your word for it," Harry said, turning his head into the cushioned backing behind him. I wrinkled my nose, noticing – albeit unwillingly – that his lips were, in fact, a little chapped.

To add to the awkwardness of the situation, Hermione suddenly appeared at the door. She looked at us for a moment before she noticed the scribbles still visible on the glass and her expression darkened. In the next second, she was gone.

The silence stretched on in the tiny cabin before Harry took mercy on us and decided to speak. "So, what happens to you?" he began, removing his legs from my lap and turning to face Ron fully. "What happens if you break an Unbreakable Vow?"

Ron and I shared a glance, as if we were deliberating on who should tell him. In the end, Ron stepped up. "You die," he answered through an exhale.

I turned my gaze back to the window, my stomach twisting anxiously. It wasn't long before we were all watching the writing on the glass defrost; the small water droplets racing down the clear surface like tears of mourning.

x-x-x

It was nice being back at The Burrow after so many stressful months at school. My parents were there to greet me the moment I walked through the front door, my father grabbing me up in an almost bone-crushing hug. I enjoyed the strength of his embrace, burying my face in his shoulder and wrapping my arms tight around his middle. I was glad they had been able to make it here, even if it was only for a few days.

Fred and George had come home for the holidays as well, leaving their shop for a little while to spend some time with their family. We swapped stories over Christmas dinner, regaling each other with tales of Potions classes, inventions gone wrong – Fred and George had about a million of those – and all around good humor. The more time passed, the more at ease I began to feel. Remus and Tonks were there as well, although Remus looked slightly worse for wear. He noticed my concerned eyes as we helped Molly clear up the table once everyone had eaten and I listened intently as he informed me of the task Dumbledore had set him. He had been living practically underground for the last few months – which was why most of my letters had gone unanswered – with other werewolves, hoping to gain information on their motives.

"I'm sorry, but that sounds awful," I said, biting down hard on my bottom lip to stem any threat of tears. The thought of Remus living with others like him, the way they could turn on you in an instant, made my stomach churn with fear.

He waved my comment away and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, changing the subject to Slughorn's Christmas party, which I was soon telling almost everyone about. Mum and dad had known Cedric was coming to see me and they smiled and laughed when I told them of my surprise and how I had practically slugged Harry for not telling me sooner.

Unfortunately, the happy nature in which we were speaking didn't last as long as I would have hoped. As the evening wore on, Harry finally brought up his suspicions of Draco, and in kind, Snape. Molly and my mum were in the kitchen with the other kids while dad, Arthur, Remus, Tonks and I sat around a small table in the living room, speaking in low voices. I listened as Harry shared all he knew, occasionally referring to me for extra details and things I may have seen. Despite the evidence he gave, Remus was still hesitant to believe him.

"Voldemort has chosen Draco Malfoy for a mission." The words were more a statement than a question.

"I know it sounds mad," Harry replied, but Remus cut him off before he could continue.

"Has it occurred to you, Harry, that Snape was simply pretending to offer Draco help so he could find out what he was up to?"

"_Ginny!" _came Molly's voice from the kitchen. _"Pies!"_

"That's not what it sounded like."

"Perhaps Harry's right, Remus," Tonks interjected softly. "I mean, to make an Unbreakable Vow –"

"It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore's judgment," Remus argued. "Dumbledore trusts Snape, therefore, I do."

"Dumbledore can make mistakes, he said so himself," Harry said.

"You're blinded by hatred." Remus's voice was sharp.

"I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Remus," I warned, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "At least try to understand."

Remus leaned back in his chair at my words, some of the fire leaving his eyes as he listened to the gentle tone I made sure to use. I was well aware of his temper and had no interest in rousing it further. If we were going to make any headway, it had to be with calm minds. "People are disappearing, Harry, daily," he began, in a much softer voice. Well, that was a start. "We can only place our trust in a handful of people; if we start fighting amongst ourselves we're doomed."

Those words seemed to end the conversation and we quickly drifted into an awkward silence. Dad's eyes were thoughtful as they met mine, the shining baby blue calming my racing heart. I needed to talk to Remus, perhaps make him see reason. If anyone was going to fight for Harry, it would be me.

"_Ginny!"_

Tonks sighed and rose from her chair, gently touching Remus's arm as she passed him. He stood at the gesture and I was on my feet in the next second. "Remus, can I speak to you for a minute?"

His eyes were tired, but he allowed me this. We left the room in silence, Ginny passing us as we wandered down the hall and out into the front yard. "You're angry," he said as the cool air brushed over our skin.

"No, I'm not angry," I said softly. "Frustrated, yes, but not angry."

"You must understand why I can't entertain such thoughts."

I huffed. "You doubt his judgment."

"I doubt his _motives._"

I looked at him in confusion. "I don't understand."

He began to walk along the outskirts of the house, waiting for me to catch up before he spoke again. "You and I both know Harry and Snape have never gotten along, and Draco has never been particularly nice."

I remembered his words from less than a minute ago. "You think these accusations are brought on from an old grudge?"

"It's possible. Harry knows about as much as the rest of us. There's every chance he's grasping at whatever explanation he can. What better person to accuse than Snape?"

"Remus," I sighed. "I know how Harry thinks. I've seen what he's seen; you _know _this. I honestly think he might be onto something."

His eyes narrowed a little at my words and I quickly explained what I had seen, the things I had heard. They were all things he'd heard before, but as soon as I told him about my reaction to Malfoy's mind all those weeks ago, his expression changed. "It hurt you?"

I nodded. "It was Dark Magic, I'm sure of it."

"Is there any chance –"

"No. Don't try and pass this off as coincidence, Remus. You know I couldn't mistake that pain for anything other than what it was. I've never had this much trouble with my sight before - it's faulty. You have to see reason here. Harry thinks Draco might be working for Voldemort, and I can't get into his mind without pain. There's got to be _something _going on."

He was silent for a while as we walked and I closed my eyes, turning my face to the sky. The breeze was cool on my overheated skin. "You're sure?"

My eyes opened and I stopped walking, wrapping my fingers gently around his forearm. "I'm sure," I promised. "I know you're hesitant, but at least try to understand where he's coming from. The evidence is far from solid, but if what I've seen is any form of indication, there's a chance we might find something. Keep an open mind. I think there's some truth to what Harry's got to say."

He frowned, but didn't argue further. It was a small victory.

The sudden sound of a throat being cleared pierced the silence. I turned around to see Arthur standing just outside the front door with Harry behind him, looking surprisingly timid. "Sorry to interrupt," Arthur apologized.

"Not at all," Remus said before I could speak. "I was just about to go inside." He gave me a gentle smile, squeezed my arm and went inside. The gesture looked simple enough to anyone watching, but I knew it was his way of saying he had heard what I'd said, and he would think about it. My shoulders, which had been pulled tight with stress, finally began to relax.

"Now," I said through a gentle exhale, turning back to Arthur and Harry. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you mind if I borrow you for a moment? Harry and I have a few things to discuss, which I think you need to hear."

I blinked in surprise. "Oh. Um, of course." I hadn't been expecting this, but it was very welcome. Perhaps it would give Harry the chance to get a few things off his chest, just as I had done. I followed them into the small shed near the house, full of garden tools, brooms and other little knick knacks – including the odd Muggle device, which I assumed belonged to Arthur.

"You'll have to forgive Remus," he said as we stepped around the shelves in the centre of the room. "It takes its toll, his condition."

I figured he was talking to Harry and not me, and as such remained silent, smiling a little as Arthur flicked the blades of a small fan, sending it spinning in a quick rotation.

"Are _you _alright, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked, sounding a little breathless from the outside chill. Reflexively, I pulled my jacket a little tighter across my chest, even though it was relatively warm in here.

"We're being followed, all of us. Most days Molly doesn't leave the house." He checked a plug dangling from a long cord and gave us a sad smile. I knew Mrs. Weasley had been struggling, but to shut herself away like that? My heart gave a small tug at the news. I was well aware of the fact that I was being tailed, but had since learned to live with it. "It's not been easy."

"Did you get my owl?" Harry asked and I startled at the sound of his voice as it pierced the thick, awkward silence.

"Yes! I did," Arthur replied, seemingly pleased to change the subject as he sat down on a wooden chair in the far corner. Harry leaned against the centre table – completely covered in all manner of things – while I stood by the dirty windows, soaking up the moonlight. "If Dumbledore's travelling then that's news to the Ministry, but perhaps that's the way Dumbledore wants it. As for Draco Malfoy, I know a bit more."

I straightened up at his words. I had suspected Harry would have written about Draco, but to have any form of answer was something I had not been expecting.

"Go on," Harry urged, his face an unreadable mask.

"I sent an agent to Borgin and Burke's."

"Borgin and Burke's?" I asked in surprise, interrupting before Arthur could continue. "Then this is about…?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Amber. I think, from what you described, what you two saw at the end of the summer; the object that Draco is so interested in, is a Vanishing Cabinet."

Harry's expression didn't crack an inch. "A Vanishing Cabinet?" he asked. My lips pursed in thought. I couldn't recall if I had ever heard of such a thing, although I think dad had mentioned it in passing once, a few years ago, back when I first received my gifts.

"They were all the rage when Voldemort first rose to power," Arthur explained. "You can see the appeal; should the Death Eaters come knocking, one simply had to slip inside and disappear for an hour or two. It could transport you practically anywhere."

"How common are they now?" I asked.

"Not very, I'm afraid. They're tricky contraptions, though, very temperamental."

"What happened to it?" Harry asked, finally showing an air of interest. "The one at Borgin and Burke's?"

"Nothing. It's still there."

x-x-x

Despite the few answers we received in that small shed, I was left with about a million new questions. If Draco wanted that cabinet, why was it still there? What did he need it for? _Why _did Borgin and Burke's have a Vanishing Cabinet in the first place? Although that last one was pretty self explanatory. These musings filled my head like an unshakable fog as we made our way back into the house for dessert, Fred and George trying to see who could fit the most pies in their mouth all at once. I think Fred got four while George got five… and a half. The other half ended up on the table when Fred made him laugh and almost choke.

Harry remained fairly quiet throughout the remainder of the evening, watching in silence as I completely destroyed the Weasley boys in a game of Exploding Snap and barely contributing when the topic of Quidditch came up.

I caught him by the arm at the foot of the stairs an hour or so later; Remus and Tonks were leaving in a bit and I intended to see them off. "Hey, is everything okay?" It felt like I had been asking him that almost every day since the start of the school year.

He nodded, but his eyes were clouded over, his mind far from here. "Yeah. I've just…"

"Got a lot to think about," I finished. His arm flexed under my fingers. "I understand. You go on up to bed and I'll see you in the morning."

"Thanks. Say goodbye to Lupin and Tonks for me," he said and stepped back before turning and continuing up the stairs. Mum and dad were in the kitchen, having relieved Molly of her cleaning duties so that she could say goodbye to the other guests.

I was outside long before they made it to the door. We may be on holidays, but I wasn't about to shirk my responsibilities. My eyes glowed like fireflies as I looked out over the thick reeds that surrounded the house, swaying like a rippling ocean current. It all looked normal, but something didn't feel quite right.

"It was delicious, Molly, really."

"Are you sure you won't stay?"

The voices reached my ears through the fog and I leaned toward them, my narrowed eyes intent on the pitch black sky. "Remus," I whispered, sensing his presence beside me. A quick glance showed the same intense focus in his eyes that I knew was plain on my own face. "Do you feel that?"

He didn't answer as Molly and Tonks continued to speak behind us.

"No, we should go," Tonks was saying. "The first night of the cycle's always the worst."

"Remus?" Arthur's voice, tentative and low, came from the doorway.

I stepped away from the house and pulled my wand from the pocket of my jeans. The wood felt smooth and familiar in my hand and my fingers tightened reflexively. A low growl rumbled in my chest, my lips pulling back from my teeth. There was a dull ache deep in my stomach and I could feel my skin prickling with goose bumps. "Remus," I said again, turning around to watch him through blue eyes. Molly's face was full of concern over his shoulder.

"Sweetheart," Tonks murmured, stepping up beside him.

Barely a second later the ache in my stomach exploded into a sharp burn that seared my veins and spread through every inch of my body. I shrieked and clutched my head in my hands, my eyes wide and flying in all directions. From the darkness of the sky came a black mist, lit with sizzling flames that ducked down low and scorched the ground. The mist made a loop of the house as the flames circled around the natural threshold of reeds before swirling to a stop and solidifying metres from where I stood.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

I bared my teeth and she grinned before turning around and racing through a small gap in the flames. It closed the moment she passed through; she had bewitched them.

"Harry, no!"

The sound of Arthur's frantic shouting jolted me and I turned my head just in time to see Harry race past me in hot pursuit of the Death Eater. I called after him but he'd already passed through the flames that, when Remus and I came too close, turned into large serpents that lunged for us until we stepped away. Tonks appeared between us and together we began throwing whatever spells we knew at the flickering snakes, hoping to bridge a gap large enough to pass through. Panic pulsed through me like a second heartbeat with every step Harry took away from me. _I have to find him, I have to find him, _I chanted over and over in my head.

Overcome with fear and anger of the worst kind, I parted my lips and let loose a snarling roar so strong I worried my throat would tear and bleed. A small gap appeared between the snakes but before I could take it, Ginny dashed through, clad in a white bathrobe. "Ginny!" I cried, missing the second person to escape through the flames by mere inches. I barely noticed mum and dad beside me, trying to keep the flames at bay.

"Amber!" Remus shouted and I turned to see him casting furiously at the gap to keep it open for me. "_Go!"_

I jumped at the chance, ducking under the serpents and letting out a muffled screech as a flame licked at the back of my leg, no doubt searing through the denim. I dove into the reeds and sprinted through, glowing eyes searching desperately for any sign of Harry or Ginny. I could hear their heavy, gasping breaths from somewhere close by, but they were lost in the sea of overgrown plants.

"_I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black! You coming to get me?" _

I could hear Bellatrix taunting Harry from up ahead and pushed myself faster through the reeds, sprinting as best I could through the growth. The further I travelled, the more the burn intensified until soon I had an arm wrapped around my middle to stem the pain, gasping in lungfuls of crisp night air. My steps faltered the moment my shoes hit water, sloshing through the shallow swamp in the middle of a clearing. I whirled around in a tight circle, wand out, searching for any sign of life, whether it was Harry, Ginny or Death Eaters.

"Harry?" came a timid voice from the edge of the clearing. My head whipped around and I almost cried out in relief when I saw Ginny back out into the water. I rushed over, water splashing up my legs, and took my place in front of her, one arm out to keep her behind me while the other held my wand straight ahead. I had been trained for this; I had to do my job.

A deep, throaty growling emanated from the reeds as a large, broad shouldered figure stepped into the moonlight. His face registered in my mind and my eyes widened. I knew his face; it was all over the wanted posters. "Fenrir," I gasped. "Fenrir Greyback."

Fenrir grinned at me, his canine teeth glinting in the light. I heard him inhale deeply through his nose and my own teeth were soon bared, my shock melting back into anger. I snarled at him, crouching a little to warn him away. He didn't step closer and I didn't lunge for him, although the desire was great.

Suddenly there was another person with us, a person with round glasses and a lightening scar. "Stupefy!" Harry yelled, flicking his wrist to send the spell flying. Fenrir deflected it with a lazy swipe and before I could made a run at him, perhaps lock his legs and crush his windpipe, he turned back into that swirling mist and was gone.

Harry and Ginny began to back up out of the water, heads whipping from side to side as great rushing sounds echoed around us. It sounded as if Fenrir was doing loops of the clearing, moving through the reeds to frighten us. My snarling stopped only so I could send a few hexes through the overgrowth, the tip of my wand lighting up like starbursts; from the sound of things, I was hitting only empty air. The burn, however, had not ceased and I could feel my eyes beginning to water.

"_Harry!"_

I heard Remus's panicked voice a second before we were ambushed by Bellatrix, Fenrir and another masked culprit. Harry, Ginny and I moved until we were standing shoulder to shoulder, blocking curses as they came at us and throwing back our own when we were given the chance. I saw Harry block a hex and quickly turn away, but not before another came at him. Without the time to throw a counter-curse, I stepped in front of him and muttered a quick shielding charm before the spell hit me square in the chest. The charm took most of the pressure off but I still flew off my feet, landing with a hard crash onto my back. From what I could tell it was only a stunning hex, but holy hell, it hurt. I was back on my feet just as Remus and Tonks sprinted into the clearing with Arthur on their heels. Remus ran to my side as I reached back for Harry's hand; he squeezed it quickly to let me know he was okay.

The spells stopped the moment the adults arrived and we waited in silence for the next onslaught. I growled brokenly into the night, eyes swinging around in search of movement. I could see figures rustling in the foliage but Remus held me back, his eyes hard. The rushing change from solid to mist sounded like thunder and we watched as one by one, the Death Eaters fled. I was just about to relax when a great explosion came from The Burrow. One quick glance was all it took to see the damage. It was on fire.

"Molly," Arthur said and then he was gone.

I took off through the reeds, my steps faltering as my body attempted to recover from its earlier impact. I could hear the others behind me and pushed myself faster, each racing heartbeat bringing with it the fear that there were people trapped inside. Fred, George, Ron. Oh God. _Mum and dad!_

Thankfully everyone was outside by the time we reached the burning house. The heat emanating from the blinding flames hit me like a battering ram the instant I stepped free of the reeds. All the windows had shattered from the excessive heat and I could hear things exploding and crashing to the floor within the tall standing house. Mum turned around when I reached her and pulled me into her arms, sobbing with relief into my hair. I felt dad's hand settle on my back as he wrapped his arms around us.

"Thank God you're okay," she whispered, rocking us gently from side to side. "Thank God."

We stood in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of destruction. The burning house was like a shining beacon of anything but hope; the reminder that no matter the protection placed on us by others, we were never truly safe.

* * *

**That whole Death Eater attack was such a pain to write. I'm still learning when it comes to writing action-y type stuff.**

**Another thing I enjoyed was having Amber and Remus around each other again. That conversation they have outside was one of my favourite scenes in this chapter. I seriously can't handle how mature this girl is now. Why can't she be eleven again? *wails***

**Okay, I'm sure several of you have noticed this by now, but I always find it hilarious when I have Amber's parents in a chapter because I constantly remember the fact that her father's first name rhymes with his last name! Admittedly, I was fourteen when I named all these characters, so it probably wasn't the best call I've ever made. And it's too late to go back and change it - I mean, come on. We're six stories in. I will, however, have to make a joke about it at some point ;) Oh, brain. You're so weird.**

**Well, I'll be back again next week. In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**

**See you again soon!**

**xx**


	11. A Troubled Mind

**Back again :) I hope you all had a good weekend.**

**I hope you've packed your bags, because we're heading back to school. *choo choo***

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven  
A Troubled Mind**

We returned to Hogwarts a few days after New Year, the Ministry having opened the Floo Network to allow us quick and safe passage back to school. Mum and dad left for home earlier in the day, the three of us having said our goodbyes. Fred and George had barely left me alone since the night of the fire, checking at random intervals for burns and bruises and generally behaving like the older brothers I had come to see them as.

The house had since been restored to its usual form, thanks to a few enchantments by the members of the Order. I suspected the Death Eaters had gone more for shock value than destructive intent, but then again, you never know with those kinds of people.

Hermione, of course, was furious when she found out. She spent a good half hour scolding Harry for being so reckless, even though he hadn't really done anything wrong. It was easy to see that this had scared her, and she was simply venting her frustrations in the hope that he'd see how concerned she was.

I only knew that because I got a good look into her head the first night back.

The incident had shaken all of us; I had doubled my efforts to keep Harry safe, even though it felt like I wasn't accomplishing anything. I couldn't shake the guilt that had been eating away at me since that night. I had convinced myself that if I had been more alert, if I had made it through the flames a minute earlier, if I had thought to do a patrol earlier in the evening, we could have avoided all this. I was meant to be protecting people, yet for some reason I couldn't seem to get it right.

Alas, it was all in the past, and there was nothing I could do to change it. All I could do was focus on the future and hope that I'd get it right the next time.

Someone else who seemed focused on what was to come was Dumbledore. He had sent another request for our company in his office the following night, which Harry seemed awfully excited about. I relished the distraction from my own thoughts and followed him diligently through the halls to the familiar gargoyle guarding the stairs. Everyone had been chattering about the upcoming Apparition Lessons we would be taking; Harry and I had both apparated before, so we knew what to expect.

After the incident in the graveyard during the Triwizard tournament, there had been a lot of speculation amongst the teachers and members of the Order about how I was able to travel like that. Remus eventually deduced that it was an Instinctual Apparition, which I knew little to nothing about at the time. He explained that when I sensed something was wrong with Cedric, my body had switched to autopilot and I had gone through the motions of Apparating without realizing. It was essentially exactly the way it sounded; I had acted on instinct, and those instincts saved Cedric's life.

Dumbledore's office was lit much the same as last time, the stone walls flickering with shadows determined to escape the soft, golden glow of the candles scattered about the room. The moment we were spotted, the Headmaster made his way to the glass cabinet for another memory. We saw more of Voldemort's past, how he had discovered his ancestors living in a small, unsanitary cottage; there was a man named Morfin, someone Tom had tracked down in his search to find Marvolo, Morfin's father. We learned of his mother Merope, who had used Love Potion to trick Tom Riddle senior into marrying her, and of her despair when he realized what had been done and deserted her, hardly caring that she was with child. Merope died during childbirth, but not before requesting that her son be named Tom Marvolo Riddle.

I knew there was much I had missed, but it was hard to retain such an onslaught of information. I felt dizzy with all the fresh knowledge in my head.

By the time we reached the final memory of the evening I found myself nestled amongst the cushions on the seat in a bay window overlooking the grounds. My head rested back against the wall, blue eyes closed away from the world as Harry dipped his face into the Pensieve and we drifted away into another memory.

-x-

_To my surprise, we found ourselves in the middle of Slughorn's old office. A much younger looking Horace sat at the head of a table set up by the roaring fireplace, each remaining chair occupied by several young boys. Perhaps this was an older version of the Slug Club, back when Slughorn taught at Hogwarts before we arrived._

"_Sir," came a low, crooning voice. The boys had been laughing at something the professor had said, but all eyes turned to the boy near the other end of the table the moment he spoke. I immediately recognized the teenage boy; it was hard to mistake that pale face and dark hair for anyone other than Tom Riddle. He was still a handsome boy, who I now knew looked very much like his father. "Is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"_

"_Oh, Tom," Slughorn replied, amused. "I couldn't tell you if I knew, could I?" He took a bite of what looked like crystallized pineapple before speaking again. "And by the way, thank you for the pineapple. You're quite right, it is my favourite." He leaned forward in his chair, as though something had just occurred to him. "But how did you know?"_

_Tom smiled a soft, charming smile. "Intuition," he said simply._

_A gentle chiming rang throughout the room and several of the boys looked toward the clock. "Good gracious! Is it that time already?" Slughorn exclaimed. "Off you go, boys, or Professor Dippit will have us all in detention!"_

_In the next second the scene changed. Slughorn stood by a desk near the fireplace, pouring himself a glass of wine. He turned at the sound of a finger flicking against the familiar green and silver hourglass on another table. "Look sharp, Tom," he said, genuinely surprised to find the young boy still there. "You don't want to be caught out of bed after hours." Tom's expression was perfectly neutral, his eyes calculating and perhaps a little curious. "Is something on your mind, Tom?" Slughorn asked, concerned at the lingering silence._

"_Yes, sir," Tom replied and began to walk towards him, acting every bit like the pleasant student everyone knew, or at least thought, him to be. "You see, I couldn't think of anyone else to go to. The other professors, well, they're not like you. They might… misunderstand." The vulnerability was remarkably believable._

_Slughorn seemed placated and somewhat flattered by his words and took a sip of his wine with a smile. "Go on," he encouraged. _

"_I was in the library the other night," Tom began, pacing again. "In the restricted section; and I read something rather odd about a bit of rare magic." A slight ringing had begun from somewhere in the room, the high octave piercing through the din and making it harder to hear. "And I thought perhaps, you could illuminate me." Tom's voice began to blur and warble, as though we were listening through water. I could barely distinguish his words. "It's called, as I understand it… a…"_

_Tom's final word was inaudible, but the expression on Slughorn's face made me wonder if it was something truly horrid. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, his face paling in what looked like shock._

_The image flickered again and suddenly Slughorn was furious, his eyebrows drawn down over his eyes and his glass of wine clutched firmly in his hand. "I don't know anything about such things," he bellowed angrily. "And if I did, I wouldn't tell you! Now get out of here at once, and don't let me ever catch you mentioning it again!" As he walked toward his student, the vicious swinging of his free arm stirred the memory and turned it into mist. The last thing I saw was Tom's face, blank and unreadable._

-x-

I jerked forward with a heavy gasp the moment Harry emerged from the Pensieve, my eyes whirling as the blue glow faded away. The constant shifting of the memory had left me feeling dazed, although my heart was racing with adrenaline.

"Confused?" Dumbledore asked and I turned my head to look at him. "I'd be surprised if you weren't."

"I don't understand," Harry said. "What happened?"

I rose to my feet as Dumbledore approached us, moving to stand by Harry's side. "This is perhaps the most important memory I've collected," he said, his face alight with determination. "It is also a _lie._"

"A lie?" I echoed, eyes wide. "That certainly explains the inconsistency. But how is that possible?"

"This memory has been tampered with," he answered. "By the same person whose memory it is: our old friend, Professor Slughorn."

Harry looked lost. "But why would he tamper with his own memory?"

"I suspect he's ashamed of it."

"Why?"

"Why indeed."

"An altered memory doesn't exactly help us, does it?" I asked, my stomach twisting at the possibility that we had just been shoved back to square one.

"No, it does not."

"So, what do we do?"

Dumbledore turned his gaze on Harry, who watched us in silence. "I asked you to get to know Professor Slughorn, and you have done so. Now I want you to persuade him to divulge his true memory, any way you can."

"I don't know him that well, sir," Harry said.

Instead of replying, or perhaps soothing Harry's concerns, Dumbledore lowered his hand into the glowing waters of the Pensieve, scooping out some of the contents and letting the shining droplets fall from his long fingers. "This memory is everything," he said, almost to himself. "Without it we are blind." I wanted to argue that with the memory we had, we were _already _blind, but he knew that. It was the reason why he had shown it to us. "Without it we leave the fate of our world to chance." He looked up from his hand and his eyes were hard. "You have no choice," he said softly. "You must not fail."

Harry was very quiet for a moment before he nodded, the glow from the Pensieve making him look almost sickly. Not much else was said and soon Harry left for the common room; as had become ritual, I stayed behind to speak to the Headmaster.

"You realize how much you're asking of him," I said once the door had closed behind Harry's retreating figure. It was not a question. Of course he knew.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "But I am without any other option. He _must _do this."

"And what if he fails?"

"He can't."

I turned around, my fingers curling into the palms of my hands. The pressure of this request was not something I could protect him from, and that knowledge made me feel incredibly helpless. "Such pressure is crippling."

"You and I both know he is capable of success," he said. "There isn't anyone else I could ask."

"Is there anything I can do to help him?" I asked, desperate for some kind of guidance.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Nothing more than what you're already doing."

"That's not enough!" I hissed, panic spreading through me like wildfire. "I've been doing all I can, and it's not enough!"

Dumbledore didn't look angry or offended at my outburst, instead his face was lined with understanding. "You're stressed."

I sighed, lifting my hands to rub at my face. "I feel like I'm not doing anything right. I couldn't stop the fire, my sight is weak - I'm not protecting _anybody._"

"You couldn't stop the fire?" he said. "At The Burrow? Good grief, Amber, no one expected you to be able to do such a thing."

"I may not have stopped it, but I did nothing to prevent it happening in the first place," I complained, feeling my eyes sting with guilty tears.

"How could you possibly have known it was going to happen?"

"I don't know." I sounded like a petulant child, but I didn't care. I needed to get this out in the open before it destroyed me. "But I _should _have known. It's my job to protect people, and so far no one is safe."

Dumbledore crossed the room and placed a hand on my shoulder. It was an unusual gesture, but something I found I needed. Fawkes sensed my distress and called out from his perch, the musical call calming my soul. "Perhaps you fail to see what I see. Every time Harry has been in danger, you have been there for him. During your previous year, when you intervened in the Ministry and shared his pain, you spared him a great deal of trauma. I'd say he's very grateful to you for that."

I remembered it well, the burning, the terror, the pleas for mercy. "It wasn't an option. He needed help and I was there to give it."

"But don't you see?" I lifted my head to look at him through blurry eyes. "You can't save him from every little thing. Yes, there will be times when he is in danger, but there are some things you can't prevent. You can't stop Fate, Amber, as much as you might like to."

"I know, but I don't feel like I'm keeping him safe. Look at all the times he's almost lost his life."

"Yes, _almost. _He _almost _did, but he didn't. You have kept him safe when it matters; we must all endure a little hardship every once in a while. You are doing everything you should be," he soothed with a gentle smile. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

I nodded weakly. "Sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to unload on you like that."

"Nonsense," he said. "I suspect you haven't spoken to anyone about this. I'm glad I was able to help. Even The Silver Phoenix needs a shoulder to lean on every now and again."

This made me laugh and I wiped away my tears. "Thank you. I suppose I should get back," I said and made my way to the door, Dumbledore following calmly behind me. As it had been the last time I was here, that strange, pulsing energy settled in my stomach as I passed his desk. I blinked in confusion and gazed down at the stained wood, spying a delicate silver chain hidden beneath a book. I reached out to touch it, feeling the air ripple against my fingers the closer I moved.

"Miss Dawson?"

I jumped at the sound of Dumbledore's voice, my hand snapping back to my chest. "I'm sorry, I just… are you _sure _you don't feel that?"

"The same energy as last time?" he inquired. I nodded, my eyes scanning his desk for the silver chain, but it was gone. "You needn't worry; everything is fine. However, I am glad you notice it."

"You are?"

He nodded, but said nothing more on the matter. "Goodnight, Miss Dawson."

I had to work hard to keep my mouth from twisting into a frown. "Goodnight, sir."

x-x-x

Harry figured that if he was going to try and finagle the memory from Slughorn's unwilling hands – or mind as it was – it was better to do it sooner rather than later. He chickened out the following morning during our early Potions class, in which he earned ten points for Gryffindor by foregoing the instructions of making an antidote for most poisons and instead presenting Slughorn with a Bezoar. No doubt such an answer came with a little help from the Half-Blood Prince. Hermione seemed quite miffed by his cheek, though Slughorn found it absolutely hilarious.

He decided to try again later in the afternoon, the two of us making our way down to the dungeons during a shared free period. Harry and I attended quite a few of the same classes, not because I had been instructed to do so, but because we shared the same ambition of becoming Aurors. He did it because he wanted to; I did it because I was designed to.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked as we cleared the final set of stairs, the sound of Slughorn's voice echoing out from the open classroom door.

"_I highly recommend you reacquaint yourself with the chapter on antidotes, but I'll tell you more about Bezoars in our next class. Right, off you go!"_

"It sounds like I may have inspired their lesson topic for today," Harry chuckled, trying to mask his nerves.

I smiled a little. "I still think you're a tremendous show off." I nudged his shoulder with my own, stepping out of the way as what looked like second year students began to file out of the classroom, chattering on about what they'd made during their lesson. "And you didn't answer my question."

"It doesn't matter whether I want to do this or not," he said softly. "I have to. You know that."

"Yes, I know. But this could blow up in our faces," I warned.

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I have to at least try."

His unspoken words hung in the air between us. _Forget try. I can't fail._

We slipped into the classroom as the remaining students scurried past us to join their friends. Slughorn had his back to us and I took the chance to step to the side and take my place at the far wall, just beside the door. This was up to Harry; I was really only here for moral support. It was best if I made myself invisible.

Slughorn turned around as Harry approached, his expression lightening at the sight of him. I had almost expected him to fly into a blind rage, but that was simply the impression left by what I had seen the night before. This Slughorn, while a little odd, was still as pleasant as ever. "Ha-ha!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "If it isn't the Prince of Potions himself!"

_Oh, the irony._

"What do I owe this pleasure?" Slughorn went on, waddling over to his desk to retrieve his things. He was obviously done with his lessons for the day.

"Well, sir, I wondered if I might ask you something," Harry began tentatively, placing his tattered copy of _Advanced Potion Making _on the front-most desk when he reached it.

"Ask away, dear boy, ask away!" Slughorn encouraged, his voice bright and energetic. This visit had obviously put him in a good mood; either that or his students hadn't misbehaved.

Harry took his chance. "Well, you see, the other day I was in the library, in the restricted section, and I came across something rather odd about a very rare piece of magic."

I noticed that he hadn't quoted Tom verbatim, which was good. Who knew what Slughorn remembered from that night. Saying the exact same thing might make him catch on sooner than we intended.

It seemed, however, that he was already suspicious. His cheerful disposition had faded, leaving only tentative obligation behind. "Yes?" he urged, unsure. "What was this rare piece of magic?"

"Well, I don't know," Harry said quickly. "I… I can't remember the name exactly. But it just got me wondering; are there some kinds of magic you're not allowed to teach us?"

The silence following his question was full of unspoken knowledge and accusation. Harry knew of Slughorn's secret and in return, the professor was catching on to our curiosity, the gentle digging we hoped would lead us to our prize. "I'm Potions master, Harry," Slughorn eventually said, the flames flickering on their torches a gentle humming in the background. "I think your question would better be posed to Professor Snape."

"Uh, yes," Harry stuttered, turning to follow Slughorn as he walked past. The older man paused as the conversation continued on. "He and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye, sir. What I mean to say is, he's not like you." I noticed the lower octave of his voice, the vulnerable tone used to persuade an unwilling outsider. "He might misunderstand."

Unfortunately, Slughorn wasn't falling for it. "Yes," he murmured. "There can be no light without the dark, and so it is with magic. Myself, I always strive to live within the light. I suggest you do the same." With that he turned and resumed his steps toward the door, not looking up from his feet as he neared me. I wondered if he even knew I was here.

Harry knew he was running out of time and options, and as such made a last, desperate attempt. "Is that what you told Tom Riddle, sir, when he came asking questions?"

My eyes widened at the accusation. There was no way around it now; Slughorn would know for sure what our motives were. I bit my tongue to keep from scolding him, or backing him up. This was his problem to solve. I did, however, watch as Slughorn's steps faltered and his head shot up, his already light pallor turning sickly and somewhat grey. He looked scared and perhaps a little betrayed, but then he turned to Harry and I lost the chance to analyze him further.

"Dumbledore put you up to this, didn't he?" he asked in disbelief. The already warm room seemed to rise in temperature as his anger spiked. _"Didn't he!?" _he yelled. My lips pulled back from my teeth and I snarled despite myself. The noise seemed to break the tension and Slughorn whirled around without another word and stormed from the room.

"We had to accept that this was a possibility," I said after a while, stepping away from the wall. Harry's jaw was clenching and releasing under his skin, his lips pressed into a thin, frustrated line. "People hardly react kindly to this sort of information."

"Do you think we'll get another chance?" His voice was flat, his eyes thoughtful.

I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I certainly hope so."

* * *

**So much drama. Honestly, will these kids ever get a day off?**

**The strange power has returned! Perhaps this second clue might help your theories ;) I look forward to hearing them.**

**I'll be back later in the week. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**

**See you again soon!**

**xx**


	12. Fear

**This was easily one of my favourite chapters to write. I don't know why, but I had so much fun with it, and I absolutely love how it turned out.**

**Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve  
Fear**

Harry tried speaking to Slughorn a few more times during the course of the day, but whenever he approached, the professor fled. His behavior was hardly surprising; Harry had accused him – knowingly, of course – of something serious, and now he wasn't giving him another chance to bring it up. But we couldn't back down. This information was absolutely vital, and sooner or later, we were going to get it.

I just hoped it _was _sooner, rather than later. We couldn't afford to wait for later.

He was still trying, even as we approached evening curfew. I had opted to stay behind this time, having gone with him on every other failed attempt. Instead I sat in front of the fireplace, surrounded by textbooks and pieces of parchment. I had fallen alarmingly behind in my schoolwork and was determined to use these last few hours of the night to catch up on everything I'd missed.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked groggily, having spent the last half hour napping on the couch behind me. Hermione had long since gone to bed, as had practically everyone else. I wasn't going to bed until I got at least three of my projects done.

"Um…" I hesitated, unsure of what to say. Dumbledore had given us permission to share what we knew with Ron and Hermione, but until we knew where we were going with this memory, I figured it was best we leave them out of it. "He's… gone to the library." I was grateful Ron couldn't see my face. If he did, he'd know for sure I was lying.

"The library?" Ron sounded skeptical and I could hardly blame him. My excuse had been absolutely terrible.

"Yep," I squeaked, doing my best to think on my feet. "I asked him to pick up another Herbology book for me. The ones I'm using don't have what I'm looking for." I held up one of my Herbology textbooks, sparing a glance at him over my shoulder. That seemed like a decent enough excuse. "I would have gone myself, but I'm way behind and need all the time I can get to finish this stuff off."

_Shut up, Amber. You're rambling._

"Hm," he grunted, accepting my excuse. "Right then, I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."

"Night," I called after him as he trudged up the stairs. There were a small handful of students still down in the common room, including a first year that had fallen asleep at a desk and was drooling all over his parchment.

Harry returned a while later, almost jumping out of his skin when I called him. I was lying on my stomach on the rug, so it was easy to see how he had missed my quiet presence. "Blimey," he gasped. "Give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

I laughed a little and sat up, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands. "Sorry," I apologized. "How did it go, with Slughorn?"

His expression twisted. "About as well as all the other times," he grumbled. "What are you still doing up?"

I held up my completed Herbology homework. "I think I'm done for the night, the rest I can finish tomorrow. You off to bed?"

"Might as well," he said. "Do you think it's worth trying again tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "I think you'll have to. We can't put this off, I'm afraid." We were being relatively vague and no one was showing interest in our conversation, so I figured we'd be safe discussing this out in the open. "Go rest," I encouraged. "You're going to need it."

He nodded. "Fine. What about you?"

I rose to my feet and stretched my arms up above my head, sighing in relief as the motion made the muscles in my back crack and stretch. "I think I might stay up a little while longer. My head is too full of serums and all the different kinds of fertilizer for me to get any form of sleep just yet."

He chuckled, his dark mood easing. "Alright, well, don't stay up too late," he instructed.

"Yes, _dad_," I teased, shooing him away when he started laughing. I quickly packed up my quills, books and parchment before settling on the couch with one of the books I had borrowed from the library the day before.

x-x-x

I jerked awake as a great _thump _echoed in my ears, eyes flicking about madly in search of the source of the noise. I spotted an open book on my chest, lying face down and moving up and down with each breath I took. Apparently I had fallen asleep mid-chapter; what had once been a roaring fire was now a softer, gently flickering warmth within the grate. Surely I hadn't been asleep for very long.

"Where is she, Harry?"

"I think she's with Professor Slughorn. Come on."

My eyes narrowed at the familiar voices and I sat up on the couch, spotting Harry leading a stumbling Ron – clad in his pajamas - toward the portrait hole. "Harry?" I asked, my voice rough from lack of use.

He turned around, his eyes finding mine as his face smoothed out in relief. "I wasn't sure if you were still awake," he said quietly. "I think I'm going to need your help."

"What in the world is going on?" I got up off the couch and crossed the room to where they stood, taking in Ron's dreamy expression. "Is he okay?"

Ron blinked sleepily and turned his gaze down to my face. His lips immediately turned downwards. "That's not Romilda," he complained. "That's Amber. Are you trying to trick me?"

I whirled around, eyes wide, and mouthed _'Romilda?'_

Harry sighed. "I'll explain on the way. Let's go."

According to Harry, Ron had devoured a box of Chocolate Cauldrons given to him by Romilda Vane, unbeknownst to the fact that they were stuffed full of Love Potion, which he was now, unwillingly, feeling the effects of. "If there's any way to get close to Slughorn," he had said as we led Ron down corridor after corridor, "this is it." Apparently I hadn't been asleep long before he had discovered Ron perched in front of the window in the boy's dorm, staring at the moon and surrounded by chocolate wrappers.

Slughorn was already dressed for bed by the time we made it to his office, his wrinkled face set in disgruntled formation. We had obviously disturbed him, and I was sure we were the last people in the world he wanted to see right now.

Harry started speaking almost instantly. "I'm sorry, sir. I wouldn't bother you if it weren't absolutely essential."

Slughorn looked beyond Harry to where I stood, my fingers tightly gripping Ron's arm as he attempted to peer into the room on the other side of the door. "Where's Romilda?" Ron asked dazedly, his glassy eyes swinging to me for answers.

"She's probably inside," I soothed him. "We just can't see her."

"What's the matter with Wenby?" I heard Slughorn whisper to Harry.

"Very powerful Love potion," Harry replied just as quietly, so that Ron didn't hear. The last thing he needed was to find out what he was feeling was artificial and, essentially, born from a cauldron.

Slughorn caved. "Very well," he said, resigned. "Better bring him in."

I had to admit I found Ron's behavior incredibly amusing; it was both parts hilarious and endearing when, upon entering the room, he tripped over a footstool, righted himself and demanded to know whether Romilda saw him stumble. I briefly wondered whether I'd be allowed to use this night against him in the future.

"I'd have thought you could whip up a remedy for this in no time, Harry," Slughorn said, plucking a few items from his potion kit and mixing them up in a small crystal bottle.

Harry's explanation was smooth. "I thought this called for a more practiced hand, sir."

To further prove Harry's statement, Ron stepped away from me and wrapped his arms around Slughorn's torso, resting his pale face against the teacher's arm. "Hello darling," he crooned lightly. "Fancy a drink?"

"Perhaps you're right," Slughorn agreed, sparing Harry a glance as he came over to help me pry Ron away.

"I'm sorry by the way, professor, about earlier today… our misunderstanding," Harry continued, shoving a cushion into Ron's hands and plonking him down onto the nearest couch.

"I've got him," I said with a smile. "It's alright."

"Oh, not at all," Slughorn replied, stirring vigorously. "All water under the bridge, you know. Correct?"

Harry walked back to him, leaving me to deal with Ron who had now risen to his feet and was wandering about the room. "I expect you're tired of it after all these years; all the questions, about Voldemort."

"_Don't use that name," _Slughorn demanded sharply.

The angry statement distracted me for a moment and by the time I turned around again, Ron was sitting on the back of the opposite couch, pillow still clutched in his arms, leaning back to look at the ceiling. I knew what was about to happen. "Uh, Ron…" I tried to warn him, but he tilted back further and abruptly fell off the back of the couch. The sound of his body striking the floor made the other people in the room turn back to investigate. I smiled a little, trying very hard not to laugh.

It took some effort, but we eventually got Ron to sit down and stay down long enough for Slughorn to pass him a glass filled with the antidote – and the solution – to his problem.

"Here you are, old boy," Slughorn said as Ron took the glass from him. "Bottoms up."

"What's this?" Ron asked, having inspected the ruby coloured liquid inside.

"Tonic, for the nerves." Slughorn had obviously thought this through already.

Ron smiled gratefully and took a large gulp of the antidote. I watched in rapt fascination as the smile on his face slowly faded and his eyes refocused. I had never seen the effects of a Love potion and the counteracting antidote before; it was all very interesting. Ron looked around for a moment, his confused eyes finding Harry's familiar face. I wondered if he remembered the journey here from the common room, or anything after eating those chocolates. "What happened to me?" he asked in a low, dejected voice.

"Love potion," Harry replied, smiling.

"A bloody strong one at that," Slughorn agreed, taking the glass from Ron's limp hand.

I touched the top of his head with gentle fingers. "Welcome back," I teased.

He didn't seem to find it funny. "I feel… really bad," he said, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. I pressed my hand against my heart, trying not to smile too much. The poor thing.

"You need a pick-me-up, my boy," Slughorn explained, rummaging around for something suitable over at his work station. "I've got Butterbeer, wine, dazzling oak-matured mead – I had other intentions for this, but I think, given the circumstances…" I heard the sharp _pop _of a cork being removed from the neck of a bottle and turned to see him pouring four glasses of the aforementioned beverage.

"Up you get, Ron," I urged, taking his hand and pulling him onto unsteady feet. He moped down at me.

Slughorn shuffled back over to us, handing Harry and I our glasses after Ron's was given. "Here you are, Potter, Miss Dawson."

I smiled and was about to take a sip when I caught the scent of something sharp and burning within the glass. My nose tingled as I recalled one of my earlier lessons with Remus, when he had shown me how to detect different kinds of poison. "Oh no…"

"To life-" Slughorn began his toast, clinking his glass against Harry's just as Ron gulped down the contents of his.

"Ron, _no!_" I cried, reaching out to him, but it was too late. Before the words had even left my lips, Ron had dropped to the floor and started shaking violently, his glass shattered on the ground beside him. I shoved past the other men in the room, placing my drink on a side table as I passed it, and fell to my knees beside him. He was already foaming at the mouth.

"Ron!" Harry said in a panicked voice, lowering himself to Ron's other side. I pressed my hands to his chest, feeling his heart pounding away against his ribcage. "_Ron!" _The veins in his neck were bulging, his eyes rolling about in their sockets. "Professor," Harry gasped. "Do something!"

But Slughorn was frozen in place, his wide eyes staring in shock at the young boy jerking about on the floor. He was of no help to us now.

"Harry," I hissed, grabbing his shoulder and all but shoving him to his feet as Ron choked and gasped between us. "Go! Find something!"

"I don't understand!" Slughorn exclaimed.

I realized then, as Harry rummaged through Slughorn's things, that he may not know what he was searching for._ "_It's poison, Harry!" I shrieked, trying to look into Ron's mind to see how responsive he was; my sight flickered madly before faltering. My panic grew. _"He's been poisoned!"_

Harry bustled about madly, ripping drawers and cabinets open before slamming them shut again as he searched for a cure. My chest heaved as Ron struggled on the ground before me, his breaths weakening before his body stilled and his skin began to turn blue, all sounds of discomfort abruptly diminished. "No," I pleaded. "No, no, no. _Harry!_"

I heard Harry's footsteps behind me but didn't dare remove my gaze from Ron as he stared unseeingly at the ceiling. Harry dropped to his knees, forced open Ron's mouth and shoved something down his throat, clamping his jaw shut in the hopes that it would force him to swallow. His cheek glistened from where the foaming mass had trickled down the side of his face and into his hair.

"What was that?" I whispered.

He didn't look at me. "A Bezoar. Come on, Ron, _breathe._"

But he didn't. For a few agonizing seconds, Ron did absolutely nothing except lay there on the rug, showing little to no signs of life. I grabbed one of his limp hands and clutched it tightly within my own, shifting my fingers to the underside of his wrist to check for a pulse. There was nothing. His skin was so cold.

Harry, who had his hand pressed over Ron's silent heart, met my panicked gaze. No words were shared between us, but we were both consumed by the horrific fear that our best friend had just died.

It wasn't possible. He couldn't. He _couldn't!_

He wasn't!

I felt the sudden jolt in his pulse seconds before he arched off the floor, his chest expanding as he took a massive breath. He coughed and choked, but he was breathing, and that was all that mattered. Harry shuffled backwards on the rug as Ron made vicious hacking sounds and propped himself up on his elbows. I let go of his hand and sat back on my heels, eyes wide and hopeful.

He twisted a little to look at Harry, whose face was pale and drawn with stress. "These girls," he said in a soft, frightened voice. "They're gonna kill me."

Harry rested back against the couch cushions as Ron fell to the floor again, breathing deeply if for nothing more than the reassurance that he could, in fact, breathe again. I gave a great exhale and grabbed his hand once more, holding it tight in my lap. I could hear the steady beat of his heart in my ears, each thump a grateful testament to what the boy across the room from me had just done.

x-x-x

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived the following morning to see their son, who was now safely in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had been taking good care of him, regularly administering doses of Essence of Rue to help his recovery. Mrs. Weasley had thanked Harry profusely for saving his life before gushing about how Harry had saved not only Ron, but Arthur and Ginny as well: _"Well, all I can say is that it was a lucky day for the Weasleys when Ron decided to sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Harry!" _she had said. It was easy to see that Harry was feeling uncomfortable, but you're bound to be thrust into the spotlight when you save someone's life. He was convinced he'd just gotten lucky and had done what any other person would have in his situation. Still, it wasn't anyone who had done it. It was _him_, and that made all the difference.

Although it wasn't a particularly pleasant reason for them to visit, I enjoyed seeing Fred and George when they arrived. They had been looking into buying Zonko's place, perhaps extend their business to Hogsmeade, but seeing as Weasleys Wizard Wheezes products were prohibited at Hogwarts, it wasn't going to do them much good. They asked how Ron had been poisoned and discussed the reasons for it with Harry and I while Ron slept peacefully beside us. Hermione hated hearing about it and made a show of tuning us out whenever the topic came up. She had remained vigil by Ron's bedside ever since she found out, her jaw clenched tight and eyes firmly on his face. Being near him seemed to calm her somewhat from the crazed, frantic girl she had been a few hours ago.

It was mid-morning before Dumbledore and some of the other staff arrived to check on Ron, sweeping into the infirmary and gathering around the single bed that Harry, Ginny, Hermione and I already crowded.

"Quick thinking on your part, Harry, using a Bezoar," Dumbledore praised, all of us watching as Madam Pomfrey checked Ron's temperature. I figured they had been discussing the current circumstances and how to handle it since they were informed last night. Snape, who along with Slughorn and McGonagall had accompanied the Headmaster, whipped his head around to stare at Harry. I remembered the way he had taunted Harry on his lack of knowledge during our first Potions class all those years ago. What a shock it must have been for him to hear that Harry was now demonstrating that knowledge successfully. "You must be very proud of your student, Horace."

"Hmm?" murmured Slughorn, distractedly. He held the bottle of mead in his right hand. "Oh yes… very proud."

"I think we agree," began Professor McGonagall. "Potter's actions were heroic. The question is: _why_ were they necessary?"

"Why indeed?" Dumbledore echoed, walking over to Slughorn. "This appears to be a gift, Horace," he said, taking the mead from him. "You don't remember who gave you this bottle?" He raised the neck to his nose and inhaled. "Which by the way, possess remarkably subtle hints of licorice and cherry, were not polluted with poison; poison that Miss Dawson managed to detect just as Mr. Weasley consumed his share."

"Actually, I had intended to give it as a gift myself," Slughorn said quietly, looking at the ground as Snape smelled the contents of the bottle.

"To whom, I might ask?"

"To _you_, Headmaster," he replied, weak and regretful.

The teachers shared a glance and I looked back over my shoulder from where I sat on the bed next to Ron's, as the sound of Lavender's voice echoed shrilly off the walls.

"Where is he? Where's my Won-Won? Has he been asking for me?" She pushed past the staff, her knees buckling a little as she paused at the foot of the bed. The moment her eyes fell on Hermione, however, her expression darkened. "What's _she _doing here?" she asked in disbelief.

"I might ask you the same question," Hermione shot back, rising to her feet.

"I happen to be his _girlfriend!_" Lavender said angrily.

"I happen to be his… friend."

"Don't make me laugh," Lavender went on, all high and mighty. The rest of us remained silent. "You haven't spoken in weeks. I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's suddenly _all interesting._"

Was she being serious right now?

Hermione seemed to share my thoughts. "He's been poisoned, you daft dimbo!" she exclaimed. I saw Harry's cheek twitch and wondered if he was trying not to smile. It was about time someone put Lavender in her place. "And for the record I've always found him interesting."

Ron began to make soft gurgling sounds, his face scrunching up in discomfort as he tried to clear his throat. He had done this a few times during the night and always settled down after a while, even emitting the odd snore or two.

Lavender, however, took it as an opportunity to point out her superiority to the girl who challenged her. "Ah, see? He senses my presence." She leaned forward, slamming her hands down on the framework at the end of the bed. "Don't worry, Won-Won," she crooned. "I'm here. I'm here."

Ron's breathing turned heavy as his lips parted and he began to mumble. Admittedly, the first garbled syllables out of his mouth could have been mistaken for _"Lavender" _but I don't think anyone was willing to point that out. Instead, we all listened for anything else he had to say. Unsurprisingly, he continued to mumble, his words taking shape the longer his mouth moved to form the words.

Hermione met my gaze, looking timid and concerned, but I merely tilted my head to the side with an encouraging smile. I knew she didn't like Lavender – you'd be hard pressed to find someone who could put up with her for more than ten minutes – and it was Hermione, not her, who had priority. Ron wanted her here, we all did.

"Her…my…nee…" Ron went on groggily. I looked at his pale face, feeling my smile grow. Had I heard correctly? Did he say what I think he said? Ron's head began to turn on the pillow, away from Lavender and towards the girl who had been there all along. "Her…my…nee," he said again, clearer this time; and then a softly exhaled, _"Hermione…"_

Lavender finally seemed to grasp what he was saying, and I'll admit I felt a little bad when her expression pinched and crumbled before she turned and fled the room, her wailing sobs just as shrill and grating as her earlier inquiries.

Dumbledore took it upon himself to break the tension. "Oh, to be young, and to feel love's keen sting," he said, as cheerful as ever.

I didn't even bother to hide my smile.

"Well, come away, everybody," he continued gently. "Mr. Weasley is well tended."

The teachers slowly filed out of the room, Ginny rising from her chair to follow them a moment later. "About time, don't you think?" she said as she passed us. She looked tired, but happy to see that her brother was going to be okay.

"Absolutely," I replied quietly, not wanting to wake Ron. Although, if he could sleep through Lavender, he could sleep through anything.

"Thank you," Harry said as Madame Pomfrey placed another small glass of Essence of Rue by Ron's bedside.

Hermione looked up when she realized we were still there, her cheeks flushing at our knowing smiles. "Oh, shut up," she whispered. I noticed that she had Ron's hand clutched between her own, her grip softer and much more affectionate than mine had been last night.

"We'll see you later, okay?" I said, rising to my feet to follow Harry out of the ward, looking back over my shoulder at Hermione's peaceful face, gazing tenderly down at Ron. "It's ironic," I went on as we stepped into the outer corridor. "All they needed to get past their anger was for Ron to be poisoned. I certainly hope they don't plan to settle all their arguments like that." The more I spoke, the less cheery my words became. I had been silently wallowing my own self-pity all night, scolding my lack of judgment.

Harry, as always, caught on. "What's the matter?" he asked, taking my limp hand as it swung at my side. "You've been so quiet ever since it happened."

I sighed. I didn't want to do this again, but it was eating away at me, slowly driving me to the brink of insanity. "Why didn't I check the bottle after Slughorn uncorked it?" I asked, more to myself than Harry. "Why didn't I make sure everything was safe before he drank it?"

Harry blinked at me, as though he hadn't expected such words. "You think you could have prevented this?"

"I _know _I could have, if I had been smart enough to check," I berated myself, scowling at my feet.

"None of us could have known this was going to happen."

"Just like we didn't know that The Burrow would be attacked," I growled.

"I don't understand, are you blaming yourself?"

"Of course I'm blaming myself. If I had just _checked the damn bottle…_"

"Whoa, settle down." He stopped walking and took me by the shoulders. "We never would have guessed that any of those bottles were poisoned, let alone that Ron would drink from one."

"It could have been you," I whispered.

His expression softened. "But it wasn't."

"No, it was Ron. I'm supposed to protect you, but what about him? What about _them_?" I wasn't doing anything right. At this rate, half the school would be dead before I managed to pull myself together. "It's my fault."

Harry felt the need to shake me a little. "It's absolutely not your fault, so stop thinking like that, okay? No one blames you."

I smiled sadly. "I do."

"Well don't. You can't blame yourself for every little thing that goes wrong in the world. You'll go mad."

This time I managed a small, fragile laugh. "You sound like Dumbledore."

"Good. That means I'm giving decent advice; now, come on, let's get back to the common room. I think we could both use some rest."

We were halfway up the stairs when I squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sure you're stressed enough. I'm the one who's supposed to be here for you. You don't need to listen to my problems."

"Nonsense," he sighed and pulled me close, tucking my head under his chin. "Everyone needs someone to talk to every now and again. Besides, you're having just as hard a time as I am."

"Not really, but thanks for trying." He pinched my side and I laughed again, feeling my spirits lift.

We continued on in silence, hands clasped between us, as usual. Halfway up a spiral staircase Harry came to a halt, tugging on my arm so that I wouldn't walk ahead. "What?" I hissed, brushing a few locks of hair away from my face.

He held a finger to his lips before pointing to the next staircase over, by the painted windows. There, ascending the stairs alone, was Draco. He didn't look suspicious, but it wasn't often you saw him wandering around on his own. Harry seemed to think that was enough to warrant investigation and quickly dragged me after him, the two of us following the Slytherin boy to wherever it was he was going.

Oddly enough, he led us to the seventh floor corridor, which was practically deserted at this time of day. I could hear birds chirping and rattling around in their cages, but apart from that everything seemed normal. Harry was adamant in his suspicions, though, following after Draco as he turned corner after corner. Eventually he came to what we both knew to be a dead end and we hid behind the nearest tapestry covered wall to spy on him as stealthily as we could. However, when we peeked around to investigate, the hall was empty.

And Draco was gone.

* * *

***rolls in the drama***

**I have a bit of a soft spot for that moment between Harry and Amber towards the end. She hates burdening people with her problems, but like Cedric, Harry can always tell when something is bothering her, and when he needs to intervene. I think it's all getting to be a bit much for her, the poor dear.**

**And just for the record, I think she's absolutely adorable when she's trying to cover for Harry :) She's just like "I have no idea what I'm doing but let's hope it works ohai Ron Harry's not here and I'm doing homework see? SEE LOOK AT ME SCRIBBLING." ****Just.. just... *happy sounds***

**We're almost on the home stretch. I'm not sure I'm ready to let go of this story just yet.**

**I'll be back next week. I hope you have a wonderful weekend - and for those of you in America, I hope you had a great Fourth of July :) It was my mum's birthday, so we got to spoil her.**

**Until next time, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**

**See you again soon!**

**xx**


	13. Letting Go

**I completely forgot how long this chapter was. And it's so angsty omg.**

**Angst angst angst.**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen  
Letting Go**

It was almost two weeks later before Ron was released from the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey refusing to let him leave until he was completely healed. In reality, he'd been better for a few days prior but she'd been adamant he get plenty of bed rest. The poor boy was beginning to go a bit stir crazy.

If there was one good thing to come from Ron's poisoning – despite how awful such a phrase sounded – it was that he and Hermione were friends again. There was absolutely no animosity between them now; I wondered if such a change stemmed from the fact that Ron and Lavender had broken up. They weren't alone, either, for apparently Ginny and Dean were still fighting.

Ron, however, seemed to remember little if not nothing of the split with his slightly obsessive ex-girlfriend, and had since been thrust into the spotlight of her anger.

"Stop it, Ron. You're making it snow."

A quick glance skyward revealed a small section of bad weather above our heads where a little cloud was sprinkling snow down to where we sat. I placed the spoon I had been holding back into my half eaten bowl of soup and helped Harry brush it onto the floor.

Instead of helping, Ron turned to Hermione with a helpless look on his face. "Tell me how I broke up with Lavender again," he said.

Hermione's brows drew together in thought. "Um," she mumbled, as if stuck for the proper way to explain. She looked to us for guidance before glancing over Harry's shoulder, where I figured Lavender was sitting. "Well… she came to visit you in the hospital… and you… talked." She looked at Harry again, checking to see whether that was saying enough without revealing everything. "I don't believe it was a particularly long conversation."

"Maybe a minute," I said with a smile. "Minute and a half."

Hermione nudged my foot under the table.

"Don't get me wrong," Ron said, leaning in and speaking in a low voice for fear of being overheard by the wrong set of ears. Three guesses who. "I'm bloody thrilled to be shot of her, it's just, she seems a bit put out."

I don't think any of us bothered to be discreet as we turned to see for ourselves Lavender's harsh countenance. Her eyes were cold and narrowed at Ron, the end of the spoon she was holding scratching into the wooden tabletop. If Ron could make it snow, Lavender could have caused a blizzard.

"Yes, um, she does, doesn't she?" Hermione commented, barely concealing her smile. "You say," she went on, turning back to a still confused Ron. "You don't remember anything from that night? Anything… at all?"

I knew what she was thinking: Ron's soft voice in the hospital wing, whispering her name in his sleep.

Ron exhaled heavily as he looked back through the collection of murky memories. I saw his eyes flicker with recognition a moment before he spoke. "There is something," he said distractedly, not noticing the way the three of us watched him. Hermione looked as though she was clinging to any and all hope that his memory was good. "But it can't be," he continued, laughing weakly. "I was completely boggled, wasn't I?"

Hermione's face fell and she quickly turned back her morning copy of the Daily Prophet. "Right," she murmured. "Boggled."

We fell into another bout of silence – there had been a few of those this morning – and I had just taken another spoonful of my still warm soup when Hermione spoke again, her voice whisper soft but alarmingly sharp. "Harry," she hissed, looking past him as a group of seventh year girls walked up the corridor. "That's Katie." He stared at her in confusion until she was forced to elaborate. "Katie Bell," she said in a firmer tone.

"Katie?" I asked in surprise, leaning back to see past Harry. "I didn't realize she was back."

In the next second Harry was out of his seat and walking after her, copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ clutched in his hand.

"Okay, see you later," I grumbled, lazily waving him off. As long as he didn't go far, I wasn't bothered. He'd gotten used to my constant presence over the years; I was the watchful shadow he couldn't shake… unless he asked nicely.

"Did you know Katie was back?" Hermione asked as I turned away from where Harry stood with the older girl, the two engaged in conversation.

I shook my head. "No, I had no idea. There was no news she'd been let out of St. Mungo's or anything, or if there was I didn't hear it. But I'm glad to see she's back."

"She looks better," Ron said, his goblet of pumpkin juice half raised to his lips.

"On the outside," I replied softly. "Who knows what's going on in her head?"

"Either way, she must have been well enough for them to let her out," Ron said after swallowing his drink. "So, did I miss anything important while I was gone?"

I shrugged. "We had a quiz in Transfiguration," I supplied calmly. "Hermione failed."

Hermione's head shot up so fast I worried for a moment that she'd hurt herself. Even if she had, I doubt she would have cared. She looked absolutely scandalized. "Excuse me?" she sputtered, eyes wide. "I did no such thing!"

Ron choked on a laugh as my lips stretched to show a wide smile. "I'm kidding," I chuckled. "No need to be so dramatic."

She huffed and went back to her paper.

I rolled my eyes. "To answer your question, Ron - no, you didn't miss anything."

He dipped his head gratefully and the three of us went back to our business. I picked up my spoon and managed a few more mouthfuls of soup before a heavy rush of heat pulsed up my spine and into my head. The spoon fell back into the bowl with a metallic clangas I leaned forward, palms pressed to my temples.

"Amber?" Hermione asked in a panicked voice. I felt her fingers on my arm. "Are you okay?"

I breathed in deep and opened my eyes, surprised to find that the sensation had gone almost as quickly as it had come. I knew I should have answered her, or paid her even a small measure of attention but I was already on my feet, eyes searching for Harry in the crowd. He was nowhere to be seen.

"Amber, what's going on?" Hermione demanded.

"I don't know," I said distractedly, opening my mind in search of his. It didn't take me long to find him, the link between us connecting and lighting up behind my eyes like lightning in a pitch black sky. I watched through the blue haze as he ran up the moving staircase, lungs burning with exertion as he tried to keep his target in sight. I recognized a painting by the entrance to the fourth floor corridor but Harry rushed past it, barely catching a flash of pale blonde hair as it disappeared a few floors up.

I was running before the connection was broken.

Several students complained as I pushed past them without apologizing, sprinting out of the hall and taking the stairs two at a time, eyes wide and panicked. The fact that he had left the hall wasn't what bothered me, it was the trigger it set off inside my head. I reacted strangely to a lot of things these days, which meant odd and sometimes uncomfortable sensations were just part and parcel of my being. But this was impossible to ignore. It wasn't just heat or discomfort, dizziness or nausea. It was anger. Pure and burning.

Harry was livid.

I was used to his anger, but this level of hatred was startling. There was a very good chance he was going to do something stupid, which is why I had to find him.

My lungs burned as I raced up the stairs, feet barely touching the ground before pushing forward into another long stride. I barely noticed the fourth floor portrait I had seen through Harry's eyes as I ran past it, finally turning off the stairs when I reached the sixth floor corridor. I paused a moment to catch my breath, eyes flicking in every direction in the hopes of seeing Harry's retreating figure, but there was nothing.

"Harry, where are you?" I hissed, opening my mind and locking onto him. I saw through his eyes for only a second before I was moving again, running so fast my entire body felt numb. Harry was in the bathroom with Malfoy, and they were fighting.

_Please don't let him do anything stupid, don't let him do anything stupid._

"_Sectumsempra!"_

I heard the curse echo down the hall just as my knees buckled and I crashed to the floor, shrieking with the sudden pain that had cinched me in its iron jaws. I braced myself with shaking hands as my mind exploded with the sharp agony of Dark Magic, made all the worse by the fact that it was Harry who had cast it. Our minds had still been linked, which intensified my pain. I bit down hard on my bottom lip to stem my cries, but it wasn't enough to silence the horrified scream that tore from my throat as white hot slices ripped my face and chest wide open.

Panicked, I lifted a hand to my face, frantically trying to claw the pain away. Surprisingly enough, my face was uninjured, despite the gashes I could feel tearing at my flesh. It struck me then that I was feeling the intended sensations from the curse Harry had used - on Malfoy.

"Cedric," I gasped as tears leaked from my eyes. I needed him to help me through the pain, the terror. But I was alone.

I was so consumed by my agony that I didn't even notice the tall figure who rushed past me and into the bathroom, clad in dark robes and moving with quick determination. It wasn't long after that that the pain began to fade, clearing my head and leaving a heavy, lethargic sensation behind. My limbs were weak and my breaths were short and shaking. I lifted my gaze - too tired to move the sweat drenched hair out of my eyes – to the bathroom door not ten metres down the corridor, and struggled to make out Harry's slim figure dashing from under the arch.

"Amber?" came his frightened voice as he ran down the hall towards me. His hands were freezing on my overheated skin. "Amber, what –"

"You used Dark Magic," I breathed, blinking my eyes free of the haze that coated them. "Didn't you?"

"How did you –"

"Why else would I be on the floor?" I glared at him. "Harry, what have you done?"

x-x-x

"Are you sure you're alright?" Hermione asked, _again._

I nodded from where I sat on the couch in front of the shadowed fireplace, legs tucked underneath me. I had been excused from my classes and granted the day to rest after my impromptu run in with Dark Magic. Harry had explained on the way back to the common room this morning that he had used the spell he'd seen in his Potions book all those months ago: _Sectumsempra – for enemies. _He had shown me what had happened and I'd been horrified to see the deep cuts that opened up on Malfoy's chest and face, exactly where I had felt them on my own body. I felt an overwhelming sense of pity for the Slytherin boy as he lay in a pool of his own blood and the layer of water leaking from the pipes. I knew he was awful and constantly gave Harry strife, but even he didn't deserve such treatment. Perhaps I only felt that way because I had gone through it with him.

After that he said Snape had arrived and healed Malfoy's injuries, but Harry had fled long before then.

Hermione was the only one willing to break the silence we were currently stuck in, periodically asking if I was okay after the whole ordeal this morning. I knew she was only doing it to ease her own mind, as none of us were quite sure how to approach the topic with Harry.

He sat beside me on the couch, hands folded in his lap, tattered copy of _Advanced Potion-Making _sitting on the table nearby. He hadn't touched it since setting it down earlier. His hands were trembling and his face was pale; it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was traumatized by what he had seen. No, by what he had _done._

"Harry," I whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinched away from me.

I tried not to show how much that hurt.

Ginny rose from her spot beside Hermione and squeezed between Harry and I, placing her hand on his leg. He let her keep it there. "You have to get rid of it," she said softly. "Today."

He didn't argue.

They left not long after, leaving the three of us remaining to relax and come down from the stressful high we'd been sitting on all day. As much as I felt for Harry, I couldn't shake the uncomfortable sensation in the pit of my stomach every time he met my gaze. The fact that he had used Dark Magic – knowingly or otherwise – shook me to my core. There had been times when he'd considered using it, and I remembered him using the Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix last year, but he hadn't had the heart to make it hurt. This time, he went in with the intention of hurting him, of punishing him for his actions. I had seen the damage, and such a thing was not forgotten easily.

As much as I hated it, I couldn't help but be a little frightened of him.

"I told him that book was a bad idea," Hermione grumbled as Ron set the fire going. "But he didn't listen."

"I don't think he realized how dangerous it could be," I soothed her. "None of us did. Not even you."

"I knew it wasn't safe."

"But did you know it contained Dark Magic? Because I certainly didn't."

She frowned. "Harry never let any of us look," she said softly. "If he had just let us check, perhaps we could have avoided all of this."

"Yeah, maybe," Ron spoke up, keeping his eyes on the slowly catching fire. "But we didn't, and now it's done. All we can do is move on from it."

I smiled. "Feeling a little philosophical today, are we?"

He shrugged. "Someone has to, seeing as you two don't know how to do anything but worry."

I had to admit he had a point.

"And besides, we couldn't have known what spells were dark and what weren't without testing them first, and the results from that could have been just as bad," he went on.

Hermione sighed, silently admitting defeat. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm going for a walk," Ron said, rising to his feet. "It's too depressing in here, and I can't handle the angst." I realized that he was trying to lighten the mood, and gave him a soft smile. "Are you two going to be okay on your own?"

I nodded. "We'll be fine." It was a nice day out, and as such the common room was completely deserted, save for us.

Hermione joined me on the couch after he left. We managed to pass the time by going over some of our textbooks. It was boring – for me, anyway – but it distracted me from myself and the images of a broken, bloodied Malfoy. And that was good enough.

x-x-x

When Harry returned, it was in much brighter spirits than when he'd left. I barely managed to greet him as he tore up the stairs and into the boy's dorms, returning a few minutes later with a tiny bottle full of clear liquid. I sat up from where I had been lounging on the couch, eyebrows raised in question.

Hermione seemed just as curious as I was. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked, eyes flicking to Ron as he emerged through the portrait hole.

"Liquid Luck?" Harry supplied. "Yeah, it is."

"And what exactly do you plan to do with it?" I asked.

Harry smiled at me, but it was cautious. "It was Ron who gave me the idea," he began. "We've had no luck whatsoever with Slughorn, so I thought…" he trailed off, wiggling the bottle next to his ear.

"Why not get lucky?" I sighed, touching my forehead with the tips of my fingers. "Of course. Bloody good thinking, Ron."

Ron beamed.

The cork made a soft popping sound as it was pulled free from the vial's slim neck, the three of us watching from our spot on the floor as Harry stared down at the clear contents. We had absolutely no idea what would come of this, but we had every hope that it would help us get what we needed.

Harry took a small breath before he raised the bottle to his lips, tipped his head back, and drained it in one go. I watched in rapt fascination as his eyes lightened and his lips pulled up in a wide, giddy smile. It was like his entire being shifted in that second, like all his worries fell away and he was left feeling like nothing in the world could touch him and everything he did would go right.

Which was the whole point of this endeavor.

"Well," Hermione began tentatively, "how do you feel?"

Harry shifted his gaze down to her face, his eyes sparkling and slightly unfocused. "Excellent," he said happily. "Really excellent." He rose to his feet and the rest of us pushed up off the floor to join him.

Hermione was straight back to business. "Remember, Slughorn usually eats early, takes a walk and then returns to his office."

Harry nodded. "Right… I'm going down to Hagrid's."

I blinked in surprise as he turned and made a beeline for the portrait hole, pausing briefly to grab his jacket.

"What?" Hermione gasped. "No! Harry, you've got to go and speak to Slughorn." I made it to Harry's side just as he turned around to look at her. "We have a plan."

"I know," he said. "But I've got a really good feeling about Hagrid's. I feel like, it's _the place to be _tonight, do you know what I mean?"

Ron and Hermione looked at him like he'd gone insane. "No," they said in unison. I smiled a little; I understood gut feelings better than anyone, but perhaps not of such a positive nature.

"Look, trust me," Harry implored. "I know what I'm doing – or, Felix does." He went to leave again but I grabbed his wrist and pulled him around to look at me.

"You're not going alone," I said firmly.

His eyes focused on my face. "Are you sure you want to come?"

I nodded. "After what happened earlier, there's no way in hell I'm letting you go off on your own, lucky potion or not."

"But aren't you scared of me?" he asked casually.

My blood ran cold. How did he know I was feeling uneasy around him? I wasn't sure if it was the Felix Felicis giving him alarmingly strong intuition or he was just good at reading body language, but this wasn't something he needed to know. It was behind us now, and any remaining trauma was mine to deal with, even if I _was_ frustrated with him.

"That's not important. Now, are you going to argue or are we leaving?" I asked. I glanced over at Ron and he grabbed my jacket from the back of the couch I'd been lying on, throwing it to me from across the room.

Harry's eyes lightened at the prospect of getting outside. "We're leaving. Come on." I loosened my grip on his wrist and he grabbed my hand before it could slide away, locking our fingers together. Even though I was scared and angry, I wouldn't deny him what had been habit to us for years. I spared Ron and Hermione a quick smile as Harry dragged me out the portrait hole, greeting a few students who passed us with a bright, "Hi!"

We encountered not a single soul – living or dead – on our way out of the castle. If it weren't for the soft, chattering voices I could hear as we passed room after room, I would have believed the entire school had been deserted and we were the only people remaining. I supposed it was just the way Felix worked; running into someone else would only hinder us, and as such, it didn't happen. I hadn't taken any, of course, but perhaps just being around Harry was enough to keep me hidden as well.

That, and I was used to making myself invisible.

It wasn't until we reached the greenhouses that we came across a familiar figure half hidden by an open greenhouse window. Professor Slughorn was clipping leaves off a writhing potted Tentacular plant on an inside shelf, placed just so to get the best balance of sunlight and shade. Harry noticed him not long after I did and came to an abrupt halt, the two of us watching as he clipped one, two, three leaves off their vines before Harry thought to approach him. I remained on the other side of the small corridor, letting him handle the situation.

Slughorn clipped another leaf before he noticed Harry standing beside him. When he did, however, he gave a great, startled gasp and bent forward onto the window frame. "Merlin's beard, Harry!" he hissed.

"Ah, sorry, sir," he said excitedly, his voice an octave or so higher than usual. "I should have announced myself – cleared my throat, coughed. You probably feared I was Professor Sprout!"

"Yes, I did, actually," Slughorn laughed, now back to cutting leaves. In the next second his face smoothed out. "W-what makes you think that?" he asked, intent on clearing himself of any suspicious activities. I don't think he realized that, at the moment, Harry wasn't bothered in the slightest.

"Oh, just the general behavior, sir," he said. "The sneaking around, the jumping when you saw me…" he trailed off, watching as Slughorn coaxed the leaves into a small container and snapped it shut. "Are those Tentacular leaves, sir? They're very valuable, aren't they?"

"Ten Galleons a leaf to the right buyer," Slughorn replied, sounding absolutely delighted. "Not that I'm familiar with any such back-alley transactions, but one does hear rumors. My own interests are purely academic, of course."

Harry seemed to have gotten distracted again. I could see his head moving around as he watched one of the vines wriggle and writhe. "Personally these plants always kind of freaked me out. Mm." And with that he turned away, holding his hand out for me to take when I was close enough. I smiled, forgetting my earlier worries for the time being as this carefree, happy Harry charmed me with his strange antics.

We were almost past the greenhouses by the time Slughorn thought to question us. "Exactly how did you get out of the castle, Harry?" His gaze shifted to where I stood and he blinked in surprise. He obviously hadn't noticed me before.

"Through the front door, sir," Harry replied before he could inquire about my presence. "We're off to Hagrid's, you see. He's a very dear friend and we'd just fancy paying him a visit." Well, it looked like I didn't have to do any damage control. Felix was handling the situation perfectly. "So, if you don't mind, we will be going now."

Harry turned and we began walking again, but he paused when Slughorn's voice reached us a second time. "Harry!" Slughorn gasped.

Harry whirled around. "_Sir!_" he said, mimicking the professor's low, astonished tone. It was nearly impossible not to laugh. This Harry seemed to have little regard for the rules – so really, he wasn't that different from regular Harry.

"It's nearly nightfall," Slughorn went on, as if this fact would bother us. "Surely you realize I can't allow you two to go wandering the grounds by yourselves."

"Well then, by all means, come along, sir," Harry said, and with the utmost confidence, turned and led me out into the open air.

"Was that part of the plan?" I asked softly, squeezing his fingers to get his attention.

He shrugged. "It is now."

Slughorn made several attempts to get us to turn back, but Harry either refused or ignored them all. He tried again as we made our way over the final hill and onto Hagrid's small piece of land. I could see him standing out past his cottage, Fang beside him. They were looking at something on the downward slope, but I couldn't quite make it out from here.

"Harry!" shouted Slughorn, several paces behind us. "I must insist you and Amber accompany me back to the castle immediately!"

"That would be counter-productive, sir," Harry replied, walking confidently up the remainder of the hill.

"W-what makes you say that?"

Harry's brows pulled together. "No idea," he said to himself.

"Perhaps we should ask Felix?" I teased.

He grinned.

By the time we made it to Hagrid, I had identified the object – or rather the creature – that lay before him. The gargantuan spider was on its back, all eight legs curled up toward the underside of his abdomen. I hadn't seen the horrific creature in over four years; the memories I had of him were all nightmarish things, but seeing him all shriveled and dead on the ground made him look far less fearsome than he once was. In fact, he almost looked smaller than when I had first met him. Then again, I had been smaller then, too, and to me he had looked as though he could block out the sun.

"Hagrid," I sighed, looking up at his face over the top of Harry's head. Fang pressed his nose into my palm. "Is everything okay?"

"_Merlin's beard," _Slughorn gasped before Hagrid could reply. "Is that an actual Acromantula?" he asked in disbelief.

"A dead one I think, sir," Harry said simply.

"Definitely a dead one," I added, wrinkling my nose. He may be dead, but he was still ridiculously creepy. Fang let out a soft whine.

"Good God," Slughorn went on. "Dear fellow, however did you manage to kill it?"

Hagrid, who had obviously been crying, looked deeply insulted. "Kill it? Me oldest friend, he was!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't –"

"Oh, don't worry yourself, you're not alone," Hagrid soothed tiredly. "Seriously misunderstood creatures, spiders are," he went on. "It's the eyes, I reckon. They unnerve some folk."

"Not to mention the pincers," Harry said, lifting both hands to his face and moving his index fingers like claws, all while making a soft clicking sound.

Hagrid looked very confused by Harry's current behavior. I would have intervened, but I was still thinking about all of those creepy spider eyes. "Yeah, I reckon that, too," he said slowly.

"Hagrid," Slughorn began after a few moments of silence. "The last thing I wish to be is indelicate, but Acromantula venom is uncommonly rare. Would you allow me to extract a vile or two - purely for academic purposes, you understand?"

"Well I don't suppose it's gonna do 'im much good now, is it?" Hagrid said, on the verge of tears.

"My thoughts exactly!" Slughorn exclaimed, completely oblivious to Hagrid's distress. I reached behind Harry's back and wrapped my fingers around Hagrid's thumb, the distance between us not allowing for much else. "I always have a sample or two about my person, for just such occasions as this," the professor went on, waddling down to where Aragog's fangs were extended, weak and lifeless. I briefly wondered how the spider had died, and then decided that I didn't want to know. "All the potion masters have it, you know."

That may be the case, but did all potion masters sell their findings for extra money? Honestly, it wasn't hard to tell what his intentions were.

"I wish you could 'ave seen 'im in 'is prime. Magnificent, 'e was. Just magnificent," Hagrid blubbered, watching as Slughorn extracted the venom he desired. I wasn't sure if Hagrid noticed when one of Aragog's fangs fell off.

Harry and I had remained fairly quiet throughout the whole ordeal, letting Hagrid mourn – I knew neither of us would miss the damn thing. Not one bit. Ron especially.

Once he was done, Slughorn came back to where we stood, tilting his head back so that he could look at Hagrid's face, half hidden by his thick, fluffy beard. "Would you like me to say a few words?" he asked gently.

"Yes," Hagrid whimpered, eyes crinkling against the flow of tears. Despite the creature he mourned, my heart went out to him. It was always strange seeing someone so tall and strong reduced to a sniveling mess, but Hagrid had always been a sensitive soul.

"He had a family, I trust?"

"Oh yeah," Harry said. My skin prickled just thinking about all those baby spiders trying to eat us. No way in hell was I ever going back there again.

Slughorn turned to the deceased monster before us and closed his eyes, hands clasped respectfully against his stomach. "Farewell…" he began, trailing off.

"Aragog," Hagrid wailed, supplying the name.

"Farewell, Aragog. King of the arachnids," Slughorn went on, paying no mind to Fang as he began to howl. "The body will decay, but your spirit lingers on in your human friends who find solace in the loss they have sustained."

It was easily one of the strangest moments of my life.

x-x-x

"_They laid him to rest…  
And his wand snapped in two, which was sad."_

Harry began applauding the moment the singing stopped, watching as Hagrid and Slughorn laughed and shared drunken smiles. We had been here for what felt like – and probably what had been – hours, listening to stories from Aragog's youth and general tales told around a table when liquor was in plentiful supply. I was fairly certain that had to do with Harry, who was silently bewitching the bottles to refill themselves upon emptying; Hagrid and Slughorn were too drunk to notice the unchanging state of their beverages, no matter how many goblets of it they consumed.

I stretched my arms above my head, trying to ease the tightness in my muscles from sitting still for so long. Harry sat on a basic table chair while I was practically swallowed by the couch in the corner, well out of sight. It was better that Harry remain within their view as a constant reminder for Slughorn. I had barely said a word since we came inside, whereas Harry spoke up every now and again. For the most part we let Hagrid and Slughorn talk themselves well into the night. I just hoped that Felix lasted until we got back into the castle. If we were caught, we'd be in a world of trouble.

"I had 'im from an egg, you know," Hagrid was saying, looking down at Slughorn whose face was almost lost in the gigantic goblet he was drinking from. "Tiny little thing 'e was when 'e hatched. No bigger than a Pekinese – a _Pekinese, _mind you!"

_Um, that's not exactly small, _I thought to myself.

"How sweet," Slughorn cooed. "I once had a fish – Francis – he was very dear to me. One afternoon I came downstairs and… it vanished. Poof!"

Hagrid dropped his goblet, which had been half raised to his lips, back onto the table and turned to us with wide eyes. "It's very odd, isn't it?" he said in disbelief. I found his investment in the tale rather adorable. I looked to Harry only to find him just as enraptured as Hagrid.

"Isn't it?" Slughorn agreed. "But, that's_ life, _I suppose! You – you go along and then suddenly… poof!"

"Poof," Hagrid said.

"Poof," Harry echoed.

Instead of continuing on with another tale from Aragog's long life, Hagrid smacked his lips, leaned back against the wall and fell straight to sleep, his head banging against the wood behind him with a heavy _thump_. Harry laughed breathlessly and I allowed myself a soft smile, sitting up a bit straighter in my chair.

Slughorn's smile faded as he looked over at Harry sitting quietly in his seat, his feet dangling above the floor. He must have realized that he was alone with the student he had been trying his hardest to avoid for the last few days, with no way out. "It was a student who gave me Francis," he began after a long, tense silence, broken only by Hagrid's snores. "One Spring afternoon I discovered a bowl on my desk, with just a few inches of clear water in it. Floating on the surface was a flower petal." He smiled wistfully at the memory, though his eyes glowed with sadness. "As I watched it sank; just before it reached the bottom, it transformed, into a wee fish." His voice rose with joy, pushing through the darkness. Harry smiled at the tale, but I felt a lump forming in my throat. Somehow I got the feeling this story didn't have a happy ending. "It was beautiful magic," Slughorn whispered. "Wondrous to behold. The flower petal had come from a Lily – your mother."

I raised a hand to my mouth, gently touching my bottom lip to try and filter the sadness in the room. Perhaps this would be the chance we'd been looking for, however somber the mood that led us here.

"The day I came downstairs, the day the bowl was empty, was the day your mother…" he trailed off, eyes wide and unblinking. He didn't have to say any more. We knew. "I know why you're here," he said softly. Surprisingly there was no judgment or anger in his tone, simply understanding. He wasn't fighting anymore. "But I can't help you. It would ruin me." His eyes were glowing in the firelight, and he looked so helpless that I felt my heart clench with pity.

Harry swallowed heavily. "Do you know why I survived, Professor?" he asked. "The night I got this?" He rubbed his forehead where I knew the lightning scar resided. "Because of her," he said. "Because she sacrificed herself, because she refused to step aside. Because her love was more powerful than Voldemort."

Slughorn visibly flinched. "Don't say his name," he rasped.

"I'm not afraid of the name, Professor," Harry said sternly, rising from his seat. I leaned forward, watching intently. I knew there was no danger here, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. This was a crucial moment in time for him, and he had to succeed. "I'm going to tell you something," he continued, walking carefully towards Slughorn. "Something others have only guessed at. It's true; I _am _the Chosen One. Only I can destroy him, but in order to do so I need to know what Tom Riddle asked you all those years ago in your office, and I need to know what you told him." Slughorn was already shaking his head, looking absolutely terrified. He knew he had been cornered. He had to face the truth – _his _truth. "Be brave, Professor," Harry encouraged him. "Be brave like my mother. Otherwise, you disgrace her. Otherwise, she died for nothing. Otherwise, the bowl will remain empty, forever."

I had been silent throughout this, but I couldn't stop the heavy exhale that rushed through my parted lips. I was so proud of him. I was well aware of what he had done earlier, but the words he had spoken proved to me that there was goodness in him, and that he himself was good. Sometimes, however, it was hard to fight the darkness within.

Slughorn gazed up at him, eyes wide and so very, very tired. The weight he had carried on his shoulders all these years had exhausted him, and he was ready to let it go. He swallowed nervously, but his arm bent back so that he could take his wand from his pocket. "Please, don't think badly of me when you see it," he pleaded in the softest voice I had ever heard him use. "You have no idea what he was like, even then."

I rose from my chair as he placed the tip of his wand to his temple and slowly, carefully, coaxed the memory from his mind. It flowed outward in wispy tendrils before melting into the rounded tip of the wand, making it glow like a single, lonely firefly. In a few paces I was across the room and standing at Harry's side, the two of us watching as the older male raised an empty vial to meet his wand, both hands shaking. In a simple, heartfelt gesture Harry reached out and steadied Slughorn's hand with his own, the two of them coming together to help form the next piece of the puzzle. Slughorn was letting go, and we were helping him.

When the memory was safely encased in the vial, Slughorn placed a cork in the top and passed it to Harry who placed it carefully in his pocket for safekeeping. I reached out and took the professor's hand between mine.

"Thank you," I whispered. "You have been very brave. I'm sure Lily would be very grateful for what you have done for her son."

He gave me a weak, world weary smile.

* * *

**Believe it or not, we only have four more chapters to go D:**

**The scenes with Harry all spazzed out on Liquid Luck were ones I had been looking forward to writing from the start, and they were so much fun. I also think it was something they needed after all the drama with the curse. While Amber came around in the end and forgave him for it, I highly doubt she'll ever forget it.**

**It always makes me laugh how Amber doesn't think Aragog is that scary anymore, but I'm sure if he happened to move while she was standing so close to him, she'd probably wet her pants. Not so tough now, are you? *cackles***

**I'll be back later in the week. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**

**Until then,**

**xx**


	14. Traces

**I've said it before and I'll say it again, you guys are the best. Come here so I can cuddle you. *smoosh***

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen  
Traces**

Dumbledore was absolutely delighted when we arrived at his office, Slughorn's memory in hand. There had been just enough Liquid Luck remaining to see us safely back into the castle –apart from a near run in with Peeves. I apologized for the lateness of the hour, but he didn't seem to care, leading us back to the Pensieve.

It seemed we weren't stopping for any idle chit chat today.

I watched as he uncorked the vial and tipped it over, emptying the thin memory stream into the softly rippling waters of the Pensieve. Once the two made contact the memory billowed out in a black cloud, slowly taking shape under the surface. I took my place against a nearby stone pillar as Harry bowed over the stone bowl, easing himself into the memory. I blinked my eyes wide, the cerulean hue washing over the room an instant before I was in Harry's mind and freefalling into a time that had long since passed.

-x-

_The beginning played out much the same as it had the last time, except when Tom's fingers flicked against the familiar green and silver hourglass, there was no ringing. Everything was clear and open._

"_I was in the library the other night," Tom was saying, striding confidently to the fireplace as Slughorn sipped his wine. "In the restricted section, and I read something rather odd about a bit of rare magic. It's called, as I understand it, a Horcrux."_

_Slughorn's cheerful expression melted into one of shock, with just a tiny hint of fear in his eyes. "I beg your pardon?" he asked dazedly._

"_Horcrux," Tom said again. The word didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."_

_Slughorn seemed to find himself again for when he spoke, his voice was strong. "I don't know what you're reading, Tom, but this is very dark stuff, very dark stuff indeed."_

"_Which is why I came to you," Tom replied._

"_A Horcrux is an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul," Slughorn explained carefully, as though he were divulging an ancient secret._

_Tom took a few quick strides forward. "But I don't understand how that works, sir," he said, now a pace or two away from his superior. _

"_One splits ones soul and hides part of it in an object. By doing so you are protected, should you be attacked and your body destroyed."_

"_Protected?" Tom asked, his voice betraying nothing. His expression was perfectly, disarmingly, neutral._

"_The part of your soul that is hidden lives on," Slughorn continued, somewhat unwillingly. "In other words you cannot die."_

_Tom said nothing, but his eyes were alight with possibility as he turned to face the fire. "And how does one split his soul, sir?" he asked casually. _

"_I think you already know the answer to that, Tom."_

"_Murder."_

"_Yes," Slughorn said, his glass of wine forgotten. "Killing rips the soul apart. It is a violation against nature."_

"_Can you only split the soul once?" I noticed the way Tom ran his finger over the black stoned ring on his other hand. "For instance, seven?"_

"_Seven!" Slughorn gasped, horrified. "Merlin's beard, Tom! Isn't it bad enough to consider killing one person? To rip the soul into _seven _pieces…" he trailed off, his eyes clearing of their frightened haze. "This is all hypothetical, isn't it, Tom?" he asked hopefully, trying to recall his earlier cheer. "All academic?"_

_Tom turned away from the fire, his pale pink lips twisting into a calm, eerie smile. "Of course, sir," he said. "It'll be our little secret."_

-x-

I cut the tether that bound me to the boy across the room and slumped back against the pillar, breathing deeply through my nose. I struggled to make sense of what I had seen, to fully understand what that conversation had set in motion, the people those words had sentenced to death.

"Sir," Harry began, his voice light and frantic.

Dumbledore raised his hand in an order of silence, his eyes staring off into the distance. Who knew how fast the wheels in his head were turning. I suspected he knew much, much more than what we had been shown. Very slowly, the Headmaster turned away from the Pensieve and staggered to the stone steps beside me, lowering himself down onto the top step.

"This is beyond anything I imagined," he said quietly.

"You mean to say he succeeded, sir?" Harry asked. "In making a Horcrux?"

"Oh yes, he succeeded, alright. And not just once."

"Seven," I whispered in disbelief. "Seven lives."

"What are they exactly?" Harry went on.

Dumbledore rose to his feet. "Could be anything," he said, moving past the horror, the fear, to the objective that remained. "The most commonplace of objects." I pushed away from the concrete support and followed the two men to the familiar desk in the centre of the room. Dumbledore pulled one of the drawers open and retrieved a black, tattered book with a gaping hole in the middle. "A ring for example," he said, sliding the object forward. It was the same ring from the memory. "Or a book."

"Tom Riddle's diary," Harry murmured, staring through the hole in the cover. My stomach clenched as I remembered how Tom had bewitched Ginny from within and forced her to open the Chamber of Secrets. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"It's a Horcrux, yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "Four years ago when you saved Ginny Weasley's life in the Chamber of Secrets, you brought me this. I knew then this was a different kind of magic; very dark, very powerful. But until tonight I had no idea how powerful…"

"And the ring?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Belonged to Voldemort's mother," the Headmaster explained. "Difficult to find - even more difficult to destroy." He raised his blackened hand for us to see.

"It was cursed?" I asked timidly. There was a dull burn in my abdomen that I knew was coming from the Horcruxes, despite their being destroyed.

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "A terrible one."

"But," Harry began again. "If you could find them all, if you did destroy each Horcrux –"

"One destroys Voldemort," Dumbledore finished.

"How would you find them? They could be hidden anywhere, couldn't they?"

"True. But magic, especially Dark Magic –"

Just then, Harry reached out and touched the ring with the tip of his finger. The moment he did the ring began to spin and the burn in my stomach spread up my spine and into my head. My eyes opened wide and I inhaled a ragged, choking breath before the ring slowed its spinning and fell back onto its side, silent and still. I raised a hand to my throat, feeling it tighten as Harry's neck twisted and cracked. It hadn't done that in over a year.

"Leaves traces…" Dumbledore said softly, watching us.

"I can feel it," I whispered. "The darkness."

"I thought you might," he replied. "I'm surprised you didn't notice them before." He walked around the desk as he spoke, coming to a stop when he reached us, his eyes narrowed in determination.

"It's where you've been going, isn't it, sir?" Harry asked. Now we had all the pieces of the puzzle; now, at last, we understood. "When you leave the school?"

"Yes. And I think perhaps I may have found another." His eyes glowed in the soft firelight. "But this time, I cannot hope to destroy it alone. Once again, I must ask too much of you – the both of you."

I clenched my jaw and took Harry's hand. Whatever he asked we were ready and willing.

We had to be.

x-x-x

Dumbledore requested we get a decent nights rest before we were to leave in search of the next Horcrux. It sounded like such a simple task, but I spent the remainder of the night tossing and turning, unable to relax, unable to focus on anything save for what awaited us when the sun rose. In the moments where sleep evaded me, I delved into Cedric's mind and watched his dreams, the colours and faces that swam about in his subconscious. It brought me a sense of peace that no amount of sleep ever could.

Harry informed Ron and Hermione of what we had achieved the night before, and what now awaited us. They were happy for us, yet concerned for our safety. I couldn't blame them, although it was not my safety I worried for.

It seemed Harry wasn't worried about himself either.

"Amber," he began when we reached the bottom of the stairs to the astronomy tower. Dumbledore had called for our presence there at sundown; I could see the pale rays of light on the twisting staircase. "I don't think this is a good idea."

I paused with my foot on the first step and turned back to look at him. "What do you mean?" I asked, startled. "Don't you want to go?" If anything, I thought he would be chomping at the bit, more eager than he had any right to be at the prospect of tracking down part of Voldemort's soul. Instead, he looked a little panicked.

"Of course I want to go," he replied. "That's not what I mean."

I moved away from the stairs and brushed a lock of hair from my eyes. "I don't understand."

"I think you should stay behind," he said.

My eyes widened. "Stay behind? Are you mad?"

He shook his head. "It's too dangerous," he said. "You could get hurt."

"Oh, so it's too dangerous for me, yet it's perfectly fine for you to go traipsing off to God knows where, in search of a piece of Dark Magic strong enough to kill us all?" I snarled, my temper rising. "Do you not think me capable of protecting myself?"

"Yes. I mean, no – I mean –"

"You listen to me, Harry Potter," I said darkly, striding forward and poking him hard in the chest. "It is my _job _to protect you. I promised Dumbledore I would look out for you, no matter the circumstances. I promised to put your life before my own. Your safety is paramount to me, Harry. There is no argument here. I'm going with you."

"But that –"

"Do you not understand the severity of the situation, Harry?"

"Of course I do! How dare you –"

"How dare _I?" _I laughed in disbelief. "How dare _you_, Harry. I promised _Sirius _that I would protect you. Does that mean nothing to you? That your godfather asked me to look after you should anything happen to him?" I knew I was hitting below the belt, but I was furious with him and had to make him see reason. "Asking me to stay behind is like asking me to break that promise, which I have no intention of doing."

His expression cracked with pain and I raised my hands to his shoulders, squeezing gently.

"Why do you think I'm here, Harry?" I asked, my tone softer now.

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why am I here? Why are we together, why have we always been together?"

"Because we're friends," he answered, confused.

I smiled a little. "Yes, but that's not what I'm saying. The Silver Phoenix is a protector, a guardian, and when I inherited those powers it meant I took on that job. Why do you think we were in the same carriage that day, all those years ago? Why do you think we were in the same house? Why do you think we started the same year?"

He shrugged, not understanding.

"We have always been together because we _need _to be together. The Phoenix is there to guard, and you were in need of a guardian. I am here because I'm meant to be here. I'm here because I was _born to protect you._" I had been thinking about this for quite a while and knew in my heart that every word was true.

Harry's eyes were wide as he absorbed my words. "You really think so?"

I nodded. "I really do. Now, are you going to push me away, or are you going to let me help you?" I held my hand out for him to take – only if he chose to.

He stared at it for a long time, brows pulled together in thought, before he reached out and wrapped his fingers tight around my own.

The wind was cold atop the tower and I pulled my jacket tighter around my chest to trap the warmth against my skin. I wondered briefly if I should have braided my hair instead of leaving it loose to tangle in the wind, then berated myself for thinking about my hair at a time like this.

"_Have you ever considered that you ask too much, that you take too much for granted? Has it ever crossed your brilliant mind that I don't want to do this anymore?"_

I paused on the final landing before we reached the viewing deck of the tower, tugging on the sleeve of Harry's jacket to stop him. There was someone up ahead, speaking with Dumbledore – someone who sounded an awful lot like Snape. I wasn't sure whether Harry could hear their voices quite as clearly as I could and so I kept my mouth shut. Something told me I was intruding on a rather private conversation.

"_Whether it has or hasn't is irrelevant. I will not negotiate with you, Severus. You agreed. Nothing more to discuss."_

There was a soft rustling sound as Snape's clothes rubbed together and then his quick footsteps as he made his way to the stairs. I pressed my back against the railing to give him passage while Harry stood firm, his eyes flat and hard as Snape trudged past us, pausing only a moment to meet Harry's gaze. The challenge in the younger boy's eyes was unmistakable, while Snape's dark orbs held a deeper, pained glow. I felt my mouth twist a little at the sight before he was gone and we climbed the final set of stairs.

Dumbledore turned as we came up behind him, looking completely untroubled despite what I had just heard. "Oh, Harry," he said softly, turning his back to the horizon to give us his full attention. "You need a shave my friend," he said after a moment of quiet observation.

Harry smiled and reached up to rub his jaw. I could hear his fingers scratching over the light layer of stubble prickling his skin.

"You know, at times I forget how much you've grown," Dumbledore went on. "At times I still see the small boy from the cupboard. And you, Amber," he turned his kind eyes on me, standing behind Harry. "You have changed so much from the young girl I met all those years ago, ignorant of her gifts and the life she would lead because of them."

"I still feel like that girl sometimes," I admitted, smiling a little.

He smiled back, watching us both in peaceful silence. It was so quiet up here; you almost felt as if you were in another world, away from everything dark and unpleasant. When in reality, that was exactly where this place would take us. "Forgive my mawkishness, children," Dumbledore finally said, pulling me from my faraway thoughts. "I'm an old man."

"You still look the same to me, sir," Harry replied.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Just like your mother you're unfailingly kind, a trait people never fail to undervalue, I'm afraid." Suddenly the atmosphere shifted and I felt the air thicken in fearful anticipation. Dumbledore walked slowly to the railing, not looking back as we followed him. "The place which we journey to tonight is extremely dangerous. I promised you could accompany me and I stand by that promise, but there is one condition." He looked down at us, his stare unwavering. "You must obey every command I give you without question."

"Yes sir," Harry said.

"Of course," I echoed.

"You do understand what I'm saying? Should I tell you to hide, you hide. Should I tell you to run, you run. Should I tell you to abandon me and save yourselves, you must do so."

My stomach twisted and for a second I wanted to deny him, tell him that he was insane and that I'd be mad to leave him behind. But then I realized I was not here to protect him. If Harry had to run, I had to leave with him. Dumbledore would _want _me to leave with him.

Dumbledore's eyes met mine, as though he had heard my internal struggle. My throat was too tight to speak and so I merely lowered my head in acceptance. I would do as he asked, no matter how much it pained me. Pleased with my choice, he turned back to the boy beside me who had yet to speak. "Your word, Harry," he said gently.

Harry looked as torn as I felt, but we knew what had to be done if we were to assist him in this perilous quest. "My word," he agreed.

With our promises of obedience firmly in place, Dumbledore held out his arm, the hanging sleeve of his silver robe rippling in the wind. "Take my arm," he instructed firmly.

Harry looked down at it in surprise. "But sir, I thought you couldn't Apparate within Hogwarts."

Once again, Dumbledore's voice lightened and the pressure in my throat eased at the happy sound. "Well, being me has its privileges."

Harry smiled and took his arm, watching as the Headmaster raised his other arm for me to take.

"I thought you might prefer this arm," he said kindly. "I understand if the injury disturbs you."

I wrapped my fingers around his left arm with a gentle smile. "We all must bear our scars, professor," I told him. "That doesn't change who you are."

His eyes softened a moment before I felt a sharp tug in my stomach and we were gone.

x-x-x

To get to the cave where the Horcrux was hidden, we had to swim through raging, icy seas that stole the breath from my lungs and made my arms and legs lock up from the sheer cold of their endless depths. But still we pushed on, making our way through the narrow tunnel to where the rocks fanned out into the large, damp cave we were looking for.

Harry helped me out of the water and held tight to my arms as I chanted under my breath. The charm did its job and our clothes and hair quickly dried, leaving us warm and no longer at risk of hypothermia. Still, I couldn't help the violent shiver that tore its way up my spine as we walked to the far wall that Dumbledore was examining.

"This is the place," he whispered fervently, checking the rock face before him. "Oh yes, this place has known magic."

I could hear the waves thundering against the cliff face behind us and turned my back to the sound, focusing on what my body was doing. There was no pain yet, no evidence of Dark Magic, but that meant little here. I could, however, feel a low thrumming in my chest, a pulse not unlike my own heartbeat. It was magic, long gone, but the remnants that clung to this old cave had once been strong and pure. I wondered if perhaps there had been a time when the Phoenix was here, investigating the source of her pain.

I opened my mouth to speak, to inform them of this revelation, but Dumbledore had turned to face us and my eyes widened at the small knife in his hand. Without a word he dug the pointed end into the palm of his blackened hand and dragged it across to form a deep gash. I hissed through my teeth at the sight.

"_Sir!" _Harry gasped in shock.

"In order to gain passage payment must be made," Dumbledore explained thickly. "Payment intended to weaken any intruder."

"You should have let me, sir, or Amber," Harry argued.

"Oh no, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly. "Your blood's much more precious than mine."

Harry's was, I mused, mine was not. I would have been happy to make the payment, but I knew he would have refused me. I was here to protect Harry, not to weaken myself. I imagined that was why Dumbledore didn't always tell us everything - so we couldn't argue.

I watched in silence as Dumbledore raised his bleeding hand and ghosted it over the rock face. As if sensing the sacrifice the rocks began to crack and chip before crumbling away into a pile of pebbles and stone dust at our feet. As soon as the passage to the inner cave was clear, the pulse in my chest turned to a heavier, deeper burn.

I didn't need to be told. I knew we had found it.

* * *

**I know, I know. I ended it in the worst possible spot, but if I hadn't stopped it there this chapter would have been way, way too long. **

**And in case you've forgotten, the cave is pretty full on. I had to give it its own chapter just so I could cover everything ;)**

**Three more chapters to go. It's weird to think that this story has been up for almost two months already. Seriously, where has the time gone?**

**Anyway, I'll be back next week with some epic feels. Fun fun.**

**As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts :) **

**Until then,**

**xx**


	15. The Unknown

**We're on the home stretch now..**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen  
The Unknown**

The arch we passed under led to a much larger, darker cave than the one we had just left. Despite my dry clothes, there was a coldness in here that sank through my skin and into my bones. The burn I had felt upon entry had passed, but I knew it wouldn't be for long. The darkness never really went away.

I pulled my wand from my pocket as we walked and whispered, "Lumos," into the silence. The tip of the wand lit up like a small star, guiding me through the uneven expanse beneath my feet as I traveled behind Harry and Dumbledore.

"Voldemort will not have made it easy to discover his hiding place," Dumbledore explained as we stepped over the pale stones. If the light hit them correctly, they almost resembled large crystals. "He will have put certain defenses in position. Amber, can you sense anything?"

I looked around the cavernous space - to the ceiling that hid beyond what even my sharp eyes could see. I didn't know how big this place was and I wasn't keen on finding out. There was, however, something here that made my skin prickle and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "There is something," I said quietly. "But I don't know what." The more I focused on it, the more my body fought the sensations it evoked and soon a low growl was rumbling in my chest. The sound echoed off the rocky walls and into the darkness that surrounded us from every angle.

"That will have to do," Dumbledore said as we approached the edge of a black, glassy lake. "Keep your eyes open. I doubt very much that we are alone here. Careful," he warned, stopping Harry before he could step off the rocks and into the water. Very slowly he raised his wand and guided it around in a slow circle before pitching his arm forward in a firm throw. The light at the end of his wand detached and sailed across the lake – much larger than I had originally thought – in search of what I could only assume was the Horcrux. Further and further it went, so far I worried it would soon vanish from sight; but then it stopped and lit up like a small supernova, revealing the enormous cave to my disbelieving eyes for a few short seconds before settling to a more comfortable glow. It hovered like a beacon against the far wall, travelling in small circles.

"There it is," Dumbledore said. He didn't sound worried in the slightest that it was on the other side of the cave. "The only question is how do we get there?"

Well, there was absolutely no way I was swimming over to it.

Dumbledore stepped closer to the edge of the rocks, leaning out over the water and letting his hand hover, fingers outstretched, in the air as though he were reaching for something far away. As he did so the water below his hand began to bubble, as if something in the depths was fighting to reach him. Seconds later a thin, dark chain shot from the lake and into Dumbledore open hand; his fingers closed tight around it as he stepped away from the water's edge, looking rather pleased with himself.

"If you would, children," he said politely.

Harry rushed forward to take the chain from his hands and pass the end back to me. Together we pulled more and more of the chain from the dark water, unsure of what was on the other end; there was definitely _something_, but what in the world would be attached to the other end of a sinister looking chain at the bottom of a dark lake in the middle of a creepy, unsettling cave like this one?

A boat, apparently.

It rose from the middle of the lake in absolute silence, the water around it rippling calmly as we pulled it to the shore. The closer it came the more it began to creak and complain, but it didn't sink and that's what mattered. It was a tiny thing, barely big enough for Dumbledore let alone Harry and I as well. The Headmaster soothed our worries that the boat would not carry us all. He seemed to think it was based more on the magical power of the person within, not the weight of those who traveled; and since Harry and I were both underage, we would not register in comparison to Dumbledore's talents.

He had obviously put a lot of thought into this, which was why he seemed so calm bringing us along. Then again, he was always like that.

The boat ride across the lake was a slow one; one that gave you plenty of time to realize how vulnerable you were in this dark, cavernous space. I kept my eyes away from the water, staring out at the barely visible cave walls. My skin prickled no matter which way I looked, as if I had just turned away from something deadly that was now lurking behind me, waiting to grab me by the neck and drag me down into the abyss.

I didn't dare say these things out loud, however. Dumbledore had put his faith in us when he decided to bring us here, and to admit that I was terrified of what awaited us made me feel a certain weakness that I didn't particularly enjoy. I knew I was not weak, but the bitter fear sank into my bones like melting ice. There was no shame in fear, I reminded myself – as long as you didn't let it control you.

Dumbledore was the first out of the boat when we reached the small, jagged island in the centre of the lake. I held my breath as Harry followed him, the boat rocking under me as he stepped over the water and onto the rocks, reaching back to help me cross when he was safely on solid ground. As soon as it was devoid of passengers the boat ceased its rocking and was still, the water smooth and clear below.

In the middle of the tiny island stood a thick, crystalline rock and at its top was a smooth inward facing dome, not unlike a basin. I touched my fingers to its cold surface as we crowded around it, gazing at the black, shadowy substance within.

"Do you think the Horcrux is in there, sir?" Harry asked, the end of his still-lit wand hovering above the swirling liquid.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore whispered. I watched as he touched his fingers to the liquid, startled to see that they didn't sink in like one's hand might sink into a bowl of water. Instead they were almost pushed away from it by a rippling burst of energy; there was obviously some kind of enchantment to protect the liquid. I noticed a dull throbbing in my temples the longer I stared at it and quickly averted my gaze, noticing a small shell resting on the corner of the stone. "It has to be drunk," he went on and I looked at his face, pale and glowing in the light from Harry's wand. His eyes had found the shell and were now sharp on Harry's face. "All of it… has to be drunk."

My throat tightened at his words, but I knew I shouldn't have been surprised. Of course Voldemort would choose such a method.

"You remember the conditions on which I brought you with me?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes now on the both of us. "This potion might paralyze me, might make me forget why I'm here, might cause me so much pain that I beg for relief. You are not to indulge these requests." My fingers found the sleeve of Harry's jacket and held on tight. "It's your job to make sure I keep drinking this potion, even if you have to force it down my throat. Understood?" His voice was very gentle, as if he could sense our panic, our fear for his safety.

"Why can't we drink it, sir?" Harry asked.

"Because I am much older, much cleverer and much less valuable," Dumbledore replied.

_I am not valuable, _I wanted to tell him. _Let me help you. Please. _But I kept my mouth shut, for I knew he would not entertain such thoughts. We all had our purpose here, and this was not my part to play.

The silence of the cave seemed so much more potent as Dumbledore grabbed the shell in his long fingers, dipped it into the shadowy potion and held it up for us to see. "Your good health, children," he said simply and raised the curved edge of the shell to his lips. I heard his throat move as he swallowed the liquid down. My own throat burned in sympathy.

For a few short seconds after he had finished his first drink, Dumbledore seemed to be perfectly fine. But then his face turned paler than usual and his eyes squinted in what I could only assume was pain. He began to shake and gripped the basin for support; my eyes focused on a drop of potion as it rolled down his long, silver beard.

"Professor," Harry said tentatively. Dumbledore blinked hard and when his eyes opened again I saw that his pupils had blown out, the iris swallowing the light blue until there was but a tiny ring around the edge. His knees seemed to buckle and he stumbled back with a great cry; we rushed to help him, to settle him down onto the stones so that he was no longer on his hands and knees. "Professor!" Harry was yelling now.

"Harry," said Dumbledore in a garbled voice.

"Professor, can you hear me?" Harry asked again, hanging onto one of Dumbledore's arms. "Professor!"

But Dumbledore could not hear him. He seemed to have shut himself away from the rest of the world, trapped in whatever torture Voldemort had laced the potion with. I crouched down beside him, my eyes wide as he raised his shaking blackened hand to his temple. "The shell, Harry," I said urgently, looking to where he stood before us, wide eyed and panicked. "Harry, get the shell!" I ordered. "We mustn't let him stop." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but Harry listened and rushed off to pick the shell up off the stones and refill it. The only way we were going to get out of here was to get through that potion. "It'll be okay, Professor," I soothed, but I doubted very much that he could hear me. "We're going to help you."

Harry returned with the shell, filled to the brim. Dumbledore didn't protest when he held it to his lips, swallowing it down in a rush before returning to his tortured cries.

One, two, three, four more times Dumbledore drank the contents of the shell as we offered it to him, each one causing more trauma than the last. It was around the sixth mouthful that he began to beg for death.

"Kill me, _kill me!" _he screamed, and I closed my eyes in pain.

"Stop, make it stop," he pleaded when Harry returned.

"It will stop," Harry assured him. "Only if you keep drinking."

I had never felt so helpless in all my life, watching as Harry travelled back and forth from the basin to where we sat on the stones. Dumbledore clutched my hand in an iron grip and I felt my eyes sting with tears at his suffering. There had to be _something _I could do.

"Professor," I said, reaching for his face. "Professor, let me help you." I could ease his suffering, just as I had done for Harry in the Ministry of Magic last year. I could take away his burden and place it on my own shoulders. "I can make it go away."

"No," he gasped, pushing me away when I tried to get closer. "No, no, no…"

"Professor, _please._"

"_No,_" he said weakly. _"You can't."_

I wasn't sure if he was talking about my ability to help him, or the level of trauma he was under, but no matter how hard I tried he refused me. I knew I could bat his trembling hands away and do what I wanted, but I would not betray him that way. If he refused my help, I had to respect his wishes.

I just hoped he knew what he was doing.

The white light that floated above us burned my eyes as I watched the scene play out, Harry dashing back and forth while Dumbledore pleaded for mercy, never letting go of my hand. "It's my fault," he told me in a broken voice, crumpled on the stones beside me. "It's all my fault."

"No it's not," I told him firmly. "It's going to be okay. I promise it will be okay."

Nine, ten, eleven mouthfuls of potion travelled down his raw throat. Eleven times I felt my heart shatter. Eleven times I wished to be in his place, to ease his suffering and make him better. Eleven times I had to remind myself that we were doing the right thing and not torturing an innocent, unwilling soul. Dumbledore had obviously known this would happen, and he trusted us to remain strong enough to see him through to the other side.

"Just one more, sir," Harry said, holding the shell out for him one last time. This mouthful was smaller, at least half the size of the others. "One more and I promise, I promise I'll do what you say!" Dumbledore was shaking his head, lips pressed together in defiance. He looked like a man defeated and I held his hand tighter between my own, letting him feel the warmth there. He was not alone. "I promise!"

"Please, Albus," I whispered. I don't know what made me call him by his first name, but 'professor' and 'sir' seemed too formal, too hard and unfeeling for this. "Just one more and it'll all be over. We gave you our word; we promise to make it better."

"Please," Harry said desperately as the wise, gentle old man looked back and forth between us, tears hanging off his pale lashes. And then, at last, he opened his mouth and Harry touched the edge of the shell to his lips. Time slowed as he drank, the pale light above us painting the world in shades of black and white. It was over in an instant and over in a year; the seconds it took were short, but they were also long; and when the shell was empty it felt like a lifetime had passed, yet it had been no time at all.

When Dumbledore looked up at us, it was with the wide, innocent eyes of someone who had just awoken from a bad dream. His pupils had shrunk back to their usual size, but his face was still pale and shining with sweat and tears, and there were shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there before. "Harry," he said after a long moment of silence, his voice scratchy and raw. He smacked his lips together a few times and if the situation weren't so perilous I would have found the action endearing. "Water," he rasped. I felt my entire body relax when I realized there was no pain in his voice. "Water."

"Water," Harry breathed, looking as relieved as I felt. He rushed back to the crystalline basin and I heard the scraping of metal on stone as he retrieved the Horcrux from within. "You did it, sir," he said proudly. I smiled at the Headmaster, who gazed back at me tiredly. "Look!" he went on.

But Dumbledore was in no mood to look. "Harry," he said again as the world around us grew dark. "Water."

"_Aguamenti!"_ Harry said loudly and there was another scraping sound, followed by Harry's fast, panicked breathing. Just as I looked toward him, the light above us vanished.

I blinked in the sudden darkness, realizing that Dumbledore's light had gone out. "_Lumos," _I whispered, cupping my hands between us; my wand was in my pocket and the spell was simple enough to cast without it. The glowing ball came to life, hovering above our heads and lighting up the world just enough for me to see everything I needed to. The light reflected in Dumbledore's pale eyes like two small stars. "Harry, what's going on?" I asked, turning to look at the basin, but Harry was not there. "Harry?" I said again, rising to my feet and turning in a small circle. My heart stopped when I saw him crouched down by the water's edge, the shell and the hand that held it resting in the water. "Harry, _no!"_

But it was too late. A thin, pale hand shot out of the water and wrapped its boney fingers around Harry's wrist. He cried out in surprise and scrambled away, the shell long forgotten. I rushed to his side, the two of us huddled back near the basin as the water surrounding the island began to ripple and churn. My eyes widened in terror as dozens – if not hundreds – of pale, animated corpses began to crawl from the water, headed straight for us.

"Inferi," I whispered, my throat closing around the word as I ripped my wand from my pocket and held it out threateningly. My body registered the presence of Dark Magic around us and I groaned as my head filled with an immediate, throbbing pain.

"Lumos Maxima!" Harry cried, throwing the light from his wand up to the roof of the cave. It lit the world around us with blinding force, proving that I was right in my assumption of the Inferi's alarming number.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry and I began to throw spell after spell into the writhing hoards.

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Stupefy! _Stupefy!"_

"_Incarcerus!"_

"Impedimenta! Petrificus Totalus!"

"_Sectumsempra!"_

I snarled at the use of the dark spell, but I found I had no anger towards him this time. This was no bathroom fight – this was a fight for our lives.

And we were losing.

"Stepefy!" I shouted, and several Inferi flew back off their feet, but more rushed up to replace them. We were being swarmed. Soon they were close enough that we had to choice but to fight them off with our bare hands, but they were surprisingly strong for such thin, frail looking creatures. One of them grabbed my hair and pulled so hard that my feet flew out from under me and I was on my back. "Harry!" I yelled, fighting off their cold, clammy hands as they scratched and tugged on whatever part of me they could reach. There was a loud splash, and the sound of Harry's voice was gone. "_Harry!" _I shrieked, but he didn't answer me.

Without a second thought I let the world turn blue, forced myself up onto my knees and thrust my hands out to the side. "_Incendio!" _The effect was instantaneous. The force of the spell knocked several Inferi back into the water, their bodies cut and burning. The lapse in number gave me just enough time to make it over to Dumbledore and shove his wand back into his hand. The spell had reminded me of a Defense Against The Dark Arts lesson, in which Snape had told us of the Inferi's main weakness. "Professor," I gasped, seeing my own face – burning blue eyes and all – reflected back at me in his tired eyes. "Professor, they've dragged Harry down. We need fire!"

"Help me," he wheezed, his eyes narrowed. His wand had begun to spark at the tip and the Inferi hesitated at the sight, screeching and clawing at the air. "Protect us," he said in a soft voice.

I nodded and stepped back, raising my arms above my head. _"Protego!" _I cried. Pale light spilled out from my hands and covered the island in a rippling, translucent dome. If there was one thing Remus had worked on tirelessly with me over the summer, it was my aptitude for protective spells. Go figure.

I felt the tip of Dumbledore's wand touch the shimmering dome and the breath rushed out of my lungs as it solidified in my mind; it wasn't solid like a brick wall, but another layer of protection had been put in place so that the Inferi couldn't get through. They huddled around it, beating their clammy hands on its rippling surface, but it remained solid and unyielding. "How…" I began, but Dumbledore cut me off with a tiny smile before the world was engulfed by fire.

The heat was staggering and I worried my skin would blister as Dumbledore swung his wand in great circles above his head, creating a thick ring of fire around us. Several burning tendrils shot into the water and I watched for any sign of Harry as the Inferi shrank back, desperate to escape the blaze. The burn in my temples began to lessen as they disappeared.

Just when I thought Harry may have lost consciousness from lack of oxygen, or have been dragged down too far to survive the crushing pressure, he broke the surface not too far from the edge of the island. "Harry!" I cried in relief, bringing my arms down so that they were stretched out at my sides. The dome enlarged around us, further protecting the island as Harry scrambled back onto the stones and up to Dumbledore's side.

"_Harry," _Dumbledore said in the frailest voice I'd ever heard him use, clutching him to his side as if his touch alone could keep him safe. He cast another spell that I struggled to hear above the roaring fire, but as soon as the words left his mouth the blazing golden flames parted before us, lighting the way back out of the cave. I couldn't help but feel as though Dumbledore had just split a great, fiery sea. He glanced at me as Harry led him down to the boat, his face so pale I felt my stomach clench in terror. I knew what he wanted and with a loud cry I threw my arms forward, fingers stretching; the dome shifted and flew down the fire tunnel, shaping itself around the burning mass so that anywhere the fire didn't touch, the shield did.

Harry helped me back into the boat, pulling me against him as we pushed away from the island. Dumbledore watched us - huddled together with my head under his chin and his hand pressed to the back of my head, my hand clutching his damp jacket with the utmost relief that he was safe – as we travelled back across the lake, the flames lighting the way.

* * *

**Well. That was intense.**

**I know you were all worried for Amber, but she's okay :) The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she wouldn't be in any extreme pain until the Inferi came for them. The Horcrux they found was a fake and would therefore pose no threat to her. If it was real? Well, that's another story entirely. You'll see how she reacts to the real thing soon enough, don't you worry. *cackles***

**I'll be back later in the week with the next chapter - the last one before the epilogue! How is that possible? It seems like just yesterday that I started writing this. **

**As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**

**See you again soon!**

**xx**


	16. Loss

**This was one of the most emotionally exhausting chapters I've ever written. I'm definitely putting a tissue warning here, seeing as I cried like a baby when I wrote it.**

**If I could suggest one thing, it would be to listen to Be Still by The Fray when you read the last scene. It really adds something special.**

**Now, hold my hand. It'll be okay.**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen  
Loss**

It was strange being back atop the Astronomy Tower after all we had just been through. We had gone from flames and endless terror to storm clouds and a warm, gentle breeze. My steps faltered as we led Dumbledore to a set of steps across the deck. The burn of Dark Magic was gone, but something still felt very, very wrong.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing, sir," Harry said in a breathless voice, Dumbledore's sagging body propped up over our shoulders. "To Madam Pomfrey."

Dumbledore made a strangled, pained sound as we lowered him down onto the top step, his arm still tight around Harry's neck. I eased him down with my hands on his back, my still-blue eyes darting in all directions. "No," he gasped. "Severus. Severus is who I need." Harry stepped back until only Dumbledore's blackened hand remained perched atop his shoulder. "Wake him. Tell him what happened. Speak to no one else." It was clear that these instructions were difficult to give, his chest heaving as he struggled to get enough air into his lungs. "Severus, Harry," he said again.

Harry took another step back, his eyes meeting mine over Dumbledore's pale head. "You go," I told him. "I'll stay here and make sure he's okay."

Harry nodded and made a dash for the stairs, pausing only when the sound of a door closing echoed up the twisting staircase. My heart began to race.

Dumbledore struggled to his feet, taking the hand I offered to keep himself steady. "Hide yourself below, Harry," he said in a firm whisper. "Don't speak or be seen by anybody without my permission; whatever happens, it's imperative you stay below." Harry didn't move, didn't say a word, merely looked at Dumbledore with eyes as big as the moon, his frantic expression half hidden in shadow. "Harry, do as I say."

Another door opened, closer this time, and I flinched away from Dumbledore. The burn that I thought had left me was now beginning again, twisting my insides with pain and fear. I could hear Harry's stuttering breaths across the deck.

"Trust me," Dumbledore said gently. Harry remained frozen. "_Trust me,_" he implored and finally Harry turned and darted down the stairs to the level below.

"Professor," I whispered, pulling gently on the sleeve of his robe. "We need to leave."

"No," he breathed, turning to face me now. "No, _you _must leave."

"Me? But I can help you…"

"I am beyond even your help now, Amber," he said, pressing his hands onto my shoulder blades. His eyes were dark and intense. "Listen to me," he insisted. "I need you to protect Harry, no matter what."

"Sir –"

"Let me speak. I know you have done nothing but protect him these last few years, but you will soon be on your own and he will need you more than anything. You must be there for him. Protect not just his body, but his spirit, for that is what drives us all."

My chest was tight and I found it hard to breathe as I listened to him speak. Footsteps were echoing loudly up the stairwell, growing closer and closer.

"The answers you seek will soon be revealed to you," he went on without missing a beat. "You mustn't lose faith in yourself, Amber. I know you do not understand, but someday soon it will become clear. Keep the ones you love safe from harm, for they will keep you strong."

"But –"

"Be brave," he whispered and his hands moved to my temples. I saw his lips curve up into a soft smile before my body went cold and I was falling, drifting through the floorboards, my body an intangible mass. I hit the ground below with a soft thud and rose shakily to my feet, feeling Harry's hand under my arm to help me. We seemed to be in a storage compartment, full of weather worn crates and dusty objects hidden away for safekeeping. There was an open circle in the centre, allowing the structure above our heads the space it needed. Our eyes met and held, the air around us cold with foreboding.

The footsteps finally reached the observation deck and I held my breath as the floorboards creaked and groaned, as if sensing the darkness. I struggled to see between the cracks, spotting only a pair of dark pants and a flash of pale, snowy blonde hair.

"Good evening, Draco," said Dumbledore from above and Harry's fingers clenched around my arm. "What brings you here on this fine spring evening?"

"Who else is here?" Draco said in a cold, shaking voice. "I heard you talking."

Harry began pulling me along, heading for the circular gap in the floorboards that would allow us to see what was happening. "I often talk aloud to myself," Dumbledore replied, calm as ever. "I find it extraordinarily useful." There was a pause, and then: "Have you been whispering to yourself, Draco?"

Draco's breathing faltered as we stepped into the light of the moon drifting in through the open space. I peered through the metal hoops in the centre of the deck, up to Dumbledore's concerned expression. Harry's fingers were digging into my arm, but I didn't care.

"Draco," Dumbledore said again. "You are no assassin."

"How do you know what I am?" Draco argued. There was no mistaking the panic in his voice, the fear and sadness, yet there was also a steely determination. He wanted to prove himself. "I've done things that would shock you!"

"Oh, like cursing Katie Bell and hoping in return she'd bear a cursed necklace to me?" Dumbledore questioned gently. "Like replacing a bottle of mead with one laced with poison? Forgive me, Draco; I cannot help feeling these actions were so weak that your heart can't really have been in them."

"He trusts me!" Draco insisted, his voice cracking. "I was chosen!"

He lifted the sleeve of his shirt and my eyes widened at the Dark Mark branded onto the underside of his forearm. I bit down on my lower lip to keep the terrified snarl trapped in my throat. I couldn't believe it - Harry had been right all along.

Dumbledore didn't break composure. He released a quick breath and adjusted his footing. "I shall make it easy for you," he said, holding up his hands.

"_Expelliarmus,_" Draco hissed and Dumbledore's wand flew out of his hand. The headmaster let it go willingly, watching it clatter to the floor.

Harry released my arm to retrieve his own wand, pointing it at the floorboards. "Very good," Dumbledore praised. He had obviously changed tactic after seeing how deeply Draco was bound to the cause. "Very good." The sound a door opening, its lock coming loose, echoed up the stairs again. "You're not alone," Dumbledore said curiously. "There are others."

Draco's breath stuttered in his throat.

"How?" Dumbledore inquired, leaning forward.

"The Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement," Draco said, no longer afraid of sharing his secrets. "I've been mending it."

Harry began walking back towards the stairwell, ignoring my wide eyed panic. I reached for him, but he refused me. I couldn't exactly speak to him, what with Draco above us and Death Eaters most likely on their way up. _You foolish boy, _I wanted to say. _Get back here! He told us to stay below! _The truth was, it was taking everything in me not to dash up the stairs and protect him. But he had asked for my word, and I would keep it. No matter how much it pained me.

"Let me guess," Dumbledore was saying, completely enraptured by the cleverness of it all. "It has a sister. A twin."

"In Borgin and Burke's," Draco replied. "They form a passage."

"Ingenious," he breathed, trying once again to win him over. "Draco, years ago I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please let me help you."

"I don't want your help!" Draco cried. "Don't you understand? _I have to do this._" His voice changed, turned high and frantic. He was terrified. Against my better judgment I once again felt an overwhelming sense of pity. Not even Draco deserved this, just like he didn't deserve being cursed in the bathroom. Despite his betrayal, the vulnerability in his voice led me to believe there was still hope for him; hope that Dumbledore was blindly grasping at. "I _have_ to kill you," he said, as if it was the last thing he wanted to do. "Or he's gonna kill me."

I knew Harry was trying to find a way back upstairs without being seen, but I was frozen to the spot, unable to look away as the chilling scene played out before me. Dumbledore's face was a mask of the utmost concern and I felt my heart clench with a sliver of hope as Draco's arm began to drop…

But then a rush of footsteps thundered up onto the deck and his arm was straight up again, his face hardening as Bellatrix and several others hidden from my view joined the two men atop the tower.

"Well," Bellatrix began. "Look what we have here." She moved around to where Draco stood and I heard her whisper praise in his ear, but the look on his face was the furthest thing from pleased.

"Good evening, Bellatrix," Dumbledore said politely. "I think introductions are in order, don't you?"

"Love to, Albus," she replied. "But I'm afraid we're on a bit of a tight schedule." I began to reach for my wand, pausing as Fenrir Greyback stepped into view. My lips pulled back from my teeth at the sight of him; I would find great pleasure in tearing him to pieces for everything he had done. "_Do it!"_ Bellatrix hissed, her wide, feverish eyes on Draco's terrified face.

"He doesn't have the stomach," taunted Fenrir. I turned to look for Harry and almost jumped out of my skin when I realized he was beside me again, wand drawn and pointing at the floorboards. His jaw was tight with stress, eyes traveling from Dumbledore to Draco and back again. "Just like his father. Let me finish him in my own way."

"No! The Dark Lord was clear; the boy is to do it!"

Harry gently pressed on my foot with his own, prompting me to turn around. Snape stood behind us, wand at the ready and I whirled around fully at the sight of him, hand flying to my pocket to grip the hilt of my wand. I bared my teeth at him, the corners of my vision turning blue and frosty. Instead of attacking, he raised a slow finger to his lips, gesturing for silence. Whether in surprise or submission, Harry lowered his wand and Snape vanished.

"Go on, Draco!" Bellatrix was saying upstairs, her voice shrill with frustration and bloodlust. "_Now!"_

"No." The word was so short and simple, yet everything paused in response. My eyes flew back to the scene above us, watching as Snape stepped up behind the young Slytherin boy whose face had relaxed in a mixture of panic and relief.

My stomach clenched as Dumbledore's eyes flicked down to where we stood, gazing up at him in helpless silence. The glance was soft and apologetic. He looked resigned; accepting of whatever awaited him here. "Severus," he said. His voice was low and calming in the silence. "Please."

Snape, who had taken Draco's place across from the Headmaster, stood perfectly still. And then he drew his wand, held it out and said in a voice laced with some unknown pain: "Avada Kedavra."

That pale, sickly green light that haunted my nightmares shot from the tip of his wand and struck Dumbledore in the chest. My eyes were wide in absolute terror as he collapsed backwards and off the edge of the tower.

A scream ripped its way from my throat, but Harry had enough sense to clamp his hand over my lips to stifle the sound. His hand shook against my lips, his breaths harsh and ragged in my ear. Bellatrix cast a spell into the night, screaming in triumph, and my body convulsed in reaction to it, my eyes watering as my knees gave out.

Harry waited until the door at the bottom of the stairs slammed shut before he removed his hand and stumbled over to the stairwell. I clutched at my throat, trying to speak around the burn. "Oh God," I whispered. "He couldn't be… he isn't… _he's not…_" But he was. I could feel it in my bones. It was not often one could cheat death, and Dumbledore had been willing to go. He had _asked _to go. But he – it couldn't have. I didn't want to believe that I had seen it, but I had. "Harry," I rasped weakly, but he was gone, taking the stairs two at a time in hot pursuit of the Death Eaters.

I knew I should follow him, protect him like Dumbledore had asked, but my body was numb. He _knew. _Somehow he knew he would die and had asked me, told me to be safe. I knew his words were meant to soothe, to give courage and strength, but I was numb in the realization that those words had also served as his farewell.

There was a great explosion from down in the castle and the sound of it forced me onto my feet. My knees shook and I struggled to breathe through the pain but I moved my feet, one in front of the other, until I reached the stairs and began the descent into familiar territory.

_Focus, Amber, _I thought to myself as I dashed down the stairs on shaky legs. _Now is not the time for this. Yes, it's a tragedy, but he asked you protect Harry. He died for Harry, and you must honor his request. Find him. Protect him. Do what you must._

It felt like a lifetime before I reached the bottom of the stairs, heaving the door open and tearing out into the hallway. There was no sign of Harry and I pushed myself faster, each breath coming a little easier than the one before. I rounded the corner and was about to make a dash for the Great Hall when I slammed into something warm and hard. Its hands grabbed the tops of my arms and I immediately began to struggle, crying out in desperation as it trapped me in its grip.

"No, no, no!" I whimpered, thrashing madly. _"Let me go!"_

"Amber. _Amber, _look at me."

The familiar voice was so startling that I fell silent, my body going limp and still in the arms that I now recognized in the way they held me. The heartbeat that was as familiar as my own. My head shot up and I was gazing into sea-coloured eyes, wide in their concern. _"Cedric," _I gasped. Any other time I would have embraced him, let the world fall away as I took shelter in his arms, but there were people who needed me. "Cedric, you have to let go. I have to find Harry, you don't understand –"

"I just saw him chasing after Snape and Malfoy," he replied and the sound of his voice was so deep, so soothing that I felt tears sting the corners of my eyes. "Amber, what's going on?"

"Dumbledore is dead," I said weakly. Cedric's eyes widened. "Snape killed him. I have to find Harry, you have to let go."

"Dumbledore is… dead?" Cedric relayed my words, his voice cracking as he spoke. "That's not possible."

As happy as I was to see him, I didn't have time for this. "Cedric please - I'll explain everything later, I promise. But right now I have to find Harry before he gets himself killed."

It seemed I had finally gotten through to him for his grip loosened on my arms and I was able to step away. He stared blankly at the wall behind my head, trying desperately to absorb what I had told him. Unwilling to leave him behind, I grabbed his hand and pulled him after me as I ran down the stairs, his long legs allowing him to keep up despite his shock. There was a maelstrom of activity in the Great Hall; several Death Eaters battled students, staff and members of The Order. The people I was looking for, however, were nowhere to be seen.

"Amber!"

I whirled around at the voice, spotting Ginny leaping over some rubble at the foot of the stairs. She was unharmed, thank goodness, and looked as wild as I felt. "Ginny, is everyone okay?"

"They're fine, but Harry took off after Snape and Malfoy. I think they're heading for the gates." She glanced at Cedric, too shaken to greet him properly, before looking back over her shoulder. "How did the Death Eaters even get here?"

"I'll explain later. You said they were heading for the gates?"

"Well, that's what I thought they were doing. Why else would – look out!" She lunged for us, shoving me out of the way just as a Hex whizzed past the place we had just occupied. "Merlin's Beard, that was close."

The sudden burst seemed to shake Cedric from his daze and he gripped me against his chest, his heart racing against my back. "If they're heading for the gates, they're obviously looking to Apparate away from the school."

"Then that's where we need to go," I said, glancing at the open front doors. "Ginny, get somewhere safe. Harry would kill me if you get hurt."

She scoffed. "I'll be fine. It's him I'm worried about." She squeezed my arm before she turned and dove back into the fray, sprinting off to find her brother.

My breath hitched in my throat. Even in the face of incredible danger these people were so brave, so willing to risk their own lives for the safety of others. I was proud to count myself a part of their movement. "Come on!" I shouted as an explosion went off above our heads. Our fingers interlocked and we made a run for the doors.

It was so quiet outside that you almost forgot about the commotion indoors – _almost._ Cedric kept pace with me across the courtyard, stopping only once to curse a Death Eater that flew over our heads, intent on reaching the gates. It seemed that with Dumbledore dead and Snape on his way out, they had no further business here. I forced myself to ignore the pain in my head, the burning in my abdomen as we sprinted from the castle and down the sloping hill to Hagrid's cottage.

"There he is!" Cedric pointed with his wand as we cleared the trees and stepped out into the clearing. My stomach churned when I saw Hagrid's home burning in the darkness, flames devouring whatever – or _whomever – _remained inside. For a moment I saw The Burrow in my mind's eye, shattered and burning. What made the Death Eaters favor fire in this way, I would never know. "Where's Hagrid?"

I blinked and the cottage came back into view, enlarging as we ran toward it. "I see him," I said tightly. He had just emerged from his house, Fang barking and whining in his arms. Reassured of his safety, I searched the grounds for Harry and found him, lying still and defeated in the grass; his body painted gold in the light of the fire. _"Harry!" _I screamed. Cedric let go of my hand, watching as I sprinted ahead and fell to my knees beside him. "Harry, Harry, Harry," I murmured, hands feathering over him in search of injury. Apart from a few dirt marks on his shirt, he was fine. "What happened here?"

He blinked up at me tiredly and pushed up onto his elbows. "Snape happened," he said darkly. "See for yourself."

And then I wasn't looking at his face anymore, but at half a dozen Death Eaters crowded around the burning house; Snape yelling for Malfoy to run, for Bellatrix to leave Harry for Voldemort. The sound of a parried curse as Harry cast a dark spell, and Snape's pale face. _"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? Yes. _I'm _the Half-Blood Prince."_

My own sight returned and I stared at Harry with wide eyes. "It was Snape? This whole time, it was Snape?" I wasn't sure whether or not I was referring to Harry's Potions book anymore.

"The whole time," Harry echoed.

x-x-x

We managed to put out the fire engulfing Hagrid's cottage before it could burn to the ground, but the look in his eyes when Harry told him of Dumbledore's fate made me want to relight it so I could stand within and let myself burn. There was no one more trusting of Dumbledore than Hagrid and it felt almost a crime to break his spirit like that.

"We need to get back," said Cedric as Hagrid sniffled beside us, staring at his blackened home. "I'm sure people are looking for you two."

As we made the journey back to the castle, I realized that the source of my continued pain came from the Dark Mark hovering high up in the storm clouds above the school. _That _must have been the spell Bellatrix cast atop the tower, the one that almost brought me to my knees. I touched my fingertips to my temples as we crossed the bridge, letting out a low groan of discomfort. Cedric's fingers sought my hand and squeezed it.

The castle was silent inside, the candles in the Great Hall blown out and almost everything within destroyed. Harry led us out to the front of the school, where a crowd had gathered around something below the Astronomy Tower.

Not something, I reminded myself tiredly. Some_one._

We moved through the crowd, listening to the sounds of sorrow as students were struck with the reality of what lay before them. I could hear someone sniffling and felt a hand on my arm when we reached the front of the group; it was Hermione, her face streaked with tears.

I could see the figure on the ground from the corner of my eye and turned to face it, my face twisting as I saw the result of Snape's actions.

Dumbledore lay in the grass, bent legs hidden under his billowing robes. His face was devoid of expression, his eyes gazing lifelessly at the night sky. Harry knelt down beside him and gently lowered his eyelids, allowing an unwilling believer to think he may have been asleep, if that were to ease their pain. I felt Cedric's hands on my shoulders and leaned back into him, reaching up to grasp at his warmth, his life, as we mourned the loss of a great man.

The Horcrux glinted in Harry's hand as he plucked it from the ground, his fist tightening around its cold surface. I turned my face away as he pressed his other hand onto the Headmasters chest, checking for a heartbeat even when he knew there was none. Ginny walked over to him, lowering to her knees to take him in her arms so that she could share his grief. I heard his sobs and buried my face in Cedric's shirt, feeling his hand in my hair as I shed my own tears.

One by one, the students and teachers around us slowly raised their wands to the sky, the tips lighting up like a fragment of the souls that mourned within. I reached for my own wand, my fingers smoothing over the dark wood, and raised it up over my head; the end began to glow as Cedric followed along, his free arm wrapping tight around my torso, fingers spread wide.

Without a word the tiny lights began to glow brighter and brighter, each glowing beacon telling its own story. Tales of the cheerful professor who greeted you with a smile and an odd phrase or two; the eyes full of wisdom and knowledge far beyond the years of anyone else you could ever hope to meet. And to those of us who knew him better than the others, we remembered his endless calm, his ability to soothe you with a simple word; the way he made you feel worthwhile and stronger than you had ever been. I thought of the man who encouraged me to believe in myself and what I had been born to do; the man who made me laugh; the man who taught me that there was no greater force in all the world than someone with a heart filled with love.

These tales would never be forgotten, living on the hearts and minds of those who carried on around us. These moments were what drove us, reminded us that there was always something worth fighting for. The lights grew brighter, shining like a full moon in a clear sky and I glanced up at the Dark Mark that was now lit from within by our strength, our conviction, and most of all, our hope. Cedric looked down at me, his own eyes shining as the Mark disappeared with a soft rushing sound. Silence fell again and we lowered our wands as the world around us settled; and in that moment everything was still.

* * *

**I remember when I finished writing this scene I had to take a few minutes to just let myself cry. Even pre-reading it made me emotional.**

**How many of you were expecting Cedric to show up? I figured Amber would really need him there, and I wanted it to be a nice surprise to help you through all the sadness.**

**I really love the way she thinks at the end of this chapter. Instead of losing herself to her grief, she tries to think of everything that made Dumbledore special, and how he affected and changed the lives around him. She tries her best to honor him, to find the light in the darkness.**

**Just the epilogue to go.**

**I'd love to hear your thoughts, even if they're emotional and make no sense :) **

**See you again soon.**

**xx**


	17. Epilogue: Lanterns

**It's taken two months, but we've finally reached the end. I'm not sure I'm ready for this.**

**The lyrics I've added to the start of this chapter have been my anthem for this story from the day I started writing it. They just fit so perfectly. It was the only thing I listened to when writing this chapter :)**

**Disclaimer: J.K owns it. Anyone or anything unfamiliar to the franchise belongs to me.**

* * *

_As we walk out  
Without question, without doubt  
In the light that we have found  
It is finally clear  
Our day has come  
And we'll stand for who we are  
We are ready, we are young  
We have nothing to fear_

_In darkness I leave_  
_For a place I've never seen_  
_It's been calling out to me_  
_That is where I should be_

_Birds Of Tokyo ~ Lanterns_

**-x-**

**Chapter Seventeen  
****Epilogue**

Hogwarts seemed like an entirely different place without Dumbledore around. The Great Hall remained shrouded in darkness, the candles refusing to light and the large curved window above the Headmaster's chair shattered and broken. They had been mended, of course, but sitting at the Gryffindor table for meals each day with that throne-like chair sitting empty in the centre made everything feel wrong.

Cedric had been granted permission to stay with me for a few days after the incident, taking it upon himself to keep a watchful eye over me until he was certain I had recovered. I constantly reminded him that I was not worth fussing over, that it was Harry that required attention, but he was having none of it. Besides, Harry had been avoiding almost everyone lately; unwilling to talk and looking tired right through to his bones.

It had been a rough couple of days for all involved, yet Hermione had still managed to find an explanation for Snape's self-appointed status of Half-Blood Prince. Apparently his mother's name was Eileen Prince – who had once owned the book – who later married a Muggle by the name of Tobias Snape. I had been too exhausted to give her my undivided attention, but from what I had gathered Snape was proud of being 'half a Prince' as Hermione had put it and as such had used that pride in making a name for himself during his school days.

Or something like that. I didn't really care about that stupid book anymore. It had caused us far too much trouble.

The hardest thing we'd had to deal with since that night was the fact that Dumbledore would have to be buried. As simple as it was, it was impossible to wrap your head around the idea that Dumbledore, the pillar of strength and solidarity, would be bidding his final farewell, never to be seen again. I had spent many hours crying in Cedric's arms, not just for Dumbledore, but for every awful thing that had happened because of Voldemort. The lives that had been lost, the families destroyed, the futures forever changed.

But most of all I felt guilty. While I had done my duty and protected Harry, I had let another person die. I had been stupid and cowardly and _loyal _– I felt anything but loyal – and had stayed below to watch instead of interfering and possibly saving his life.

"Amber, you can't blame yourself for that," Cedric had scolded after I told him of my feelings. "If you had gone up there you would have been killed. Even you couldn't take on that many Death Eaters at once."

"But maybe, if I had taken a chance, I could have done something. _Anything," _I argued. We were out on the bridge, staring at the rolling hills and the Quidditch Pitch in the distance. "Better I die than him."

He had turned to face me then, his face twisted in frustration. "How can you think like that?" he asked me. "You did what he wanted you to do. The Death Eaters were after him, there was nothing you could have done."

"But that's the thing," I cried, tears springing to my eyes. It felt like I had been crying for days. "I haven't done anything! I haven't done a single thing worthwhile. _I have changed nothing. I'm not protecting anyone! _What's the point of me having these powers if the people around me keep dying?_"_

He pulled me into his arms, rocking us from side to side as I beat at his chest with weak hands, sobs ripping free of my throat. "It wasn't your fault," he crooned. "You have done so much, sweetheart. You _have_," he said when I began to argue. "I know you don't see it now, but one day you'll understand."

"How? How can I do that if I don't even understand who I am?" I whimpered, locking my arms around his strong torso.

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like a part of me is missing. Ever since I was told my gifts were maturing it's like I haven't had a proper grip on my own power. Dumbledore obviously knew what was going on but now he's dead and I'll never know." I looked up at him, his face blurred by my tears, and shared the words I had been hiding all year. "I'm incomplete, Cedric. I don't feel whole anymore. I don't feel like myself, and that scares me."

His eyes softened and he brushed my tears away with his thumb. "What did he say to you in the tower that night? The answers you seek will soon be revealed?" I nodded weakly. "It sounds to me like you won't be kept in the dark forever. You need to have a little faith in yourself."

I stared at him for a long moment, taking in the sharp lines of his face, the set of his mouth. He was different from the man I had met two years ago; the sweet, shy young man who had competed in the Triwizard Tournament and fought with the DA in the Ministry. Being in the Order had changed him, hardened him somehow. He had seen the perils of war and such a sight had aged him, not just physically but mentally as well. He was firm and direct, but still sweet and gentle. His face was strong and determined, yet it still softened whenever I was around. He looked like my Cedric, _felt _like my Cedric; for all intents and purposes he was still every bit the man I loved, but he had also been altered by the world around us.

But I had changed, too. It felt like we were leaving our innocence behind and growing up too fast. I cried for the loss of those days as we stood there on the bridge, wrapped around each other and holding on so tight that nothing could shake us.

x-x-x

It was the day of Dumbledore's funeral and the atmosphere was thick with sadness. With Professor McGonagall's permission I had slipped away from the Great Hall and made my way up to the Headmaster's office. The password hadn't changed and the Gargoyle allowed me passage onto the rising staircase; I could feel his stony gaze on me as I pushed the door open.

The first thing I noticed was how absolutely nothing inside this grand room had changed. It was almost like stepping back in time; Dumbledore's wand was on his desk, surrounded by sheets of parchment, quills and books. Several light, tinkling sounds could be heard from all the strange little objects he had collected over the years. They shone in the early morning light, sparkling in my eyes like golden fireworks. This place was the same as it had always been, but there was a new portrait hanging from the wall; Dumbledore sat peacefully in his chair, head lolling slightly to the side as he slept, clad in those familiar silver robes. I wondered, if one was to wake him, if he would behave in the same manner he always had. What I wouldn't give to talk to him again…

A soft, musical cry emanated from behind the large desk and I followed the sound, walking back to where Fawkes stood on his perch. We eyed each other calmly. This was why I had come here, and he knew it.

"Hey Fawkes," I whispered, stepping up to his post and rubbing my knuckles along his feathery chest. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. It's been a tough few days."

He watched me in silence. I probably looked like a complete loony, chatting to a bird, but I didn't care. I had bonded with this stunning creature, the mark of my own legend, and he had been waiting for me. On the night of Dumbledore's death Fawkes had begun to sing. It was a beautiful song, a lament of sadness and mourning. It hadn't lasted very long, but I knew he would soon be leaving. Without Dumbledore around he had no reason to stay, but he had been waiting for this. I think we both had.

It wasn't just Dumbledore I was saying goodbye to today.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "Forgive me for not knowing how to comfort a Phoenix, but I think you needed to hear that." I smiled at myself for the first time in days, a soft laugh rumbling in my throat. "I don't know where you're going, but I know I won't see you again. I just wanted to come and say thank you, for all you've done." In all the years I'd had these powers, not once had I seen the Silver Phoenix; Fawkes had served as a replacement for her, a link to the creatures my soul, my very being was tied to. "I'll miss you."

There was a sudden warmth in my heart as Fawkes lowered his head until we were eye-to-eye. In the next second the world turned blue and everything fell away.

_I saw my own face, young and innocent, staring up at Fawkes with Harry by my side. It was the very first time I had ever seen him and I was struck by the wonder he saw in my eyes, the ability to believe that anything was possible, no matter how mad it seemed. He had turned to look at me, and I had smiled._

_The scene changed and I was older now, blue eyes shining nervously as I struggled to control my newly acquired powers. Remus walked in circles around me, speaking in a soft voice as he gave me simple instructions. I flicked my wand and the target across the room from me exploded. I gave a triumphant cry and Remus smiled proudly. "I did it!" I cried. "Did you see that, Remus? I did it!"_

_Cedric and I raced around the grassy courtyard, my happy squeals almost drowned out by the heavy rain. I leaped out of the way as Cedric reached for me and he slid on the wet ground, slamming down onto his back with a heavy thud. I had laughed and reached to help him up, but when he took my hand he gave an almighty pull and I slipped in the grass, falling to my back beside him. We laughed together, our faces turned up to the cold rain._

_Umbridge stood in the centre of the clearing, sending curse after curse flying at me as I struggled to dodge and block. My face was hard with anger and determination and with a loud snarl I sent a spell flying at her. It struck her in the stomach and she stumbled back with a startled expression on her face. I crossed my arms and grinned. I knew full well that she hexed me after that and I spent the next two weeks sporting a horrific bruise on my back, but it didn't matter. In that moment, I had felt unstoppable._

_And then I saw myself from just a few months ago, staring up at Fawkes in much the same way that I had the first time we met. My eyes, much older and laced with experience and hardships, still held that wonder I thought I had lost. I smiled, and the sight was beautiful._

_A thousand expressions, a thousand experiences, a thousand tears and sounds of joy; and Fawkes had been there for all of them._

The glow faded and I was looking at Fawkes again, as I had so many times over the years. I was crying again but I didn't care. For once they were not tears of sadness, they were tears of joy, of love and gratitude. "Thank you," I whispered. He had reminded me, without saying a word, that I was strong and brave and that through all the darkness and pain, there was light. So much light. So much goodness and purity; all you had to do was look close enough and you'd see it.

He made a soft sound and the blue haze returned. This time it was a rush of images, rapidly changing, yet there was one constant among so many variables. In each frame I was surrounded by Harry, Ron and Hermione, the four of us laughing and smiling. From the day we met to the present, we were always together. We had been there to guide each other, to provide comfort and strength when things were at their hardest. It wasn't hard to see that even as we grew and changed, the love we had for each other never went away.

I blinked and the pictures vanished. I could feel the pull in my chest, the link to this remarkable creature silently pleading, promising; I knew what he was asking of me. "Don't worry," I said, feeling completely at peace. "I won't forget."

Satisfied, he lowered his head to where my hand hovered in the air between us. I felt his smooth beak against my palm and gently touched my fingers to the back of his head. "Good luck, Fawkes," I whispered. "And farewell."

x-x-x

"Do you think he would have done it?" Hermione asked. "Draco?"

I looked away from the Black Lake, shining gold in the light of the setting sun and peered at her over Harry's shoulder. We were up in the Astronomy Tower, taking some time away from the rest of the world. I had thought being here again would bring back those horrific memories, yet I felt nothing save for a deep sense of calm as the breeze moved over us like cool silk.

"No," Harry replied. "No, he was lowering his wand. In the end it was Snape. It was always Snape." I could hear the blame in his voice, the deep, simmering anger he held towards himself. "And I did nothing."

I frowned and lay my hand on his arm. "It wasn't your fault," I reminded him. "I don't think there was much we could have done."

He didn't look at me and I didn't expect him to. Instead he glanced down at the golden locket gripped in his hand. Hermione noticed and leaned into him curiously; he handed it to her without hesitation. "It's fake," he told her. "Open it."

She met my gaze and I nodded. "Go on."

I watched as she popped the locket open and retrieved the small piece of folded parchment with tentative fingers. I heard the light scraping sound as it was unfolded and turned back to the lake, gazing out over the mountains that surrounded it. "To the Dark Lord," she read. "I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B." She paused, confused. "R.A.B?"

"Dunno," Harry replied dejectedly. "But whoever they are, they have the real Horcrux, which means it was all a waste. All of it."

I turned my head at his words, the sunlight warm on my cheek. I wanted to tell him otherwise, but I knew in this state he would not listen. Yes, we had been fooled into thinking we had retrieved a proper Horcrux and yes, we had lost one of own because of it, but I didn't see it as being a waste. We had done something only one other person had managed to do – to our knowledge at least. And there was also a chance that R.A.B had managed to destroy the Horcrux he or she stole. But at the same time, if they hadn't it meant that there was a Horcrux floating around somewhere and we had no clue where to even begin looking for it.

It was hard and frustrating and seemed impossible at the best of times, but it was not a waste. We couldn't think that way; Dumbledore wouldn't want us to. What we did, we did so in the quest to rid the world of Voldemort. That didn't sound like a waste to me.

"Ron's okay with it, you know," Hermione said, jolting me from my thoughts. I looked over my shoulder at where Ron sat on the very steps Dumbledore had rested on mere days ago. "You and Ginny."

I smiled. Harry and Ginny hadfinally gotten together, much to Ron's dismay; or at least he pretended he was dismayed. I knew for a fact that while it was a little weird for him, he knew Harry would look after his little sister. Seeing into people's minds really does come in handy. "Don't let that grumpy face fool you," I whispered. Hermione's eyes shone.

"But if I were you, when he's around, keep the snogging to a minimum."

"Or go somewhere else," I teased. "That works, too."

Harry smiled just a little, his eyes faraway. "I'm not coming back, Hermione." The words were resolute. None of us looked in the least bit surprised. "I've got to finish whatever Dumbledore started, and I don't know where that'll lead me but I'll let you guys know where I am, when I can."

"I've always admired your courage, Harry," Hermione said, her eyes on the horizon. "But sometimes you can be really thick." I chuckled, enjoying the rush of happiness as Harry turned his head to look at her. The sound blew away on the wind. "You don't really think you're going to be able to find all those Horcruxes by yourself, do you?" He was silent and she leaned forward to meet his eyes. "You need us, Harry."

"We're in this together," I said, catching his hand that rested on the battlement. He turned it over and gently squeezed my fingers. "No matter what."

We were silent then, Harry not bothering to argue with us. We had to stick together if we were going to succeed, and he was barking if he thought we'd let him go off on his own.

"I never realized how beautiful this place was," he said after a while, looking out at the mountains, the castle spires standing as tall and proud as ever. I let my eyes sweep over the grand structure, trying to see it with a fresh perspective. There were so many little things I had never noticed, small hints of beauty that I had simply become used to over the years. He was right, this place was glorious. Leaving it behind would be hard, but we had a job to do and we would see it through to the end.

A familiar, musical cry filled the air around us and I looked to the sky, spotting Fawkes circling the castle. Just like us, he was bidding this magical place an unwilling farewell, and yet the sight of him filled me with peace. I tipped my head up to the sun and let my eyes close; in that moment I was up in the clouds, soaring high over the world. I could see everything, go anywhere, and be whomever I wanted. In that moment, as the Phoenix passed over our heads and travelled out over the water, I was free.

We crossed the deck to watch him, Ron rising from the steps to join us. We stood there in silence, united and strong. We had a bond that could not be broken, not even in death. And as Fawkes disappeared over the mountains I remembered what I had promised him, what I had always known deep inside: as long as I carried the ones I loved inside my heart, I would never be alone.

**The End**

* * *

**And there you have it :) **

**I have so much to say, but I'm feeling a bit emotional so my thoughts are all scattered. Writing this story was so much fun, and I've had a blast getting back into this fandom and talking to everyone again. You've all been so wonderful. Even though this story is finished, the series is not. It makes me very happy to know I'll be able to come back to these kids again for a while longer. Even after this series is finished I highly doubt I'll stop writing for them :) In fact, when I have enough time I'm going to go back and rewrite all the earlier stories. I've learned so much since I first started writing and I know I can do better. Those stories deserve to be written better :)**

**Thank you to Andi and Britt, who Skyped with me while I was writing and put up with all my whining when I couldn't get something to sound right, and for brainstorming with me when I got stuck on plot points. And thank you to my beautiful Libby, who held my hand when I got emotional and reminded me that I still have so much more to write. You made me feel like I wasn't completely insane for being so in love with these kids ;) This story wouldn't be what it is without you, and I'm so grateful to you for helping me find my voice as a writer. We have grown, and will continue to grow together. **

**It may take a little while, but I will absolutely finish this series. I have lots of other stories that need to be written, so it will be a few months before I'm able to come back to this. I also need to read Deathly Hallows before I even think about writing the next story. I know, I know. I'm late to everything ;) While the next story in this series doesn't yet have a name, I promise to post a little AN on here once it's up and running. And you can always put me on Author Alert if you want to be notified for the next story, or anything else I may write in the meantime.**

**I'm also on Twitter :) My username is BlueWinterAngel. Links to any other fic related sites I'm on are up on my profile.**

**Well, I think that's pretty much it. I sincerely hope I'll be back again soon :) As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

**Until next time,  
Take care.**

**xx**


	18. Temporary AN

Hello, my darlings!

I'm sorry it's been so long. While I haven't posted anything new in a while, I can guarantee you that I'm hard at work planning new stories to share with you. Right now, I'm working on a very belated birthday gift for a friend which is thankfully almost finished, so as soon as that's been posted I'm going to get straight back to my other stories. Until then, however, I have something new and exciting to share with you.

This is something I've wanted to do for a while now, and I've finally plucked up the courage – and had the time – to put it together. I get a lot of questions about my OC's and what they're all about, and people saying how much they'd love to be able to have a conversation with them. Well, now you can!

Introducing: _Ask The OC's!_

This is a tumblr page where you can submit questions for any of my OC's to answer (and even me, if you want to). They don't have to be serious or in depth, they can literally be about anything you may have wanted to ask them over the years. And, as an added treat, once I've written about their children – because I'm a sap and can't resist the temptation – you'll be able to ask them questions, too. You can ask about anything that's happened in the stories so far, and maybe even press them for details on future events.

And, if you ask nicely, their significant others might drop in to say hello from time to time ;)

The link to the tumblr page is on my profile, or you can copy and paste this: **ask witches wolves and wings . tumblr** ** . com **into your search box and remove the spaces.

Although this wasn't a notification about a new story, or a new chapter you've been waiting for, hopefully it was still good news. I'm so excited to be able to share this with you.

I'll see you again soon!

_xo_


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